


Pandemonium Blossoms

by sinister666



Series: All Hell Breaks Loose [1]
Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Abortion, Azarah, Because I like him too much, Berith, Blood, Demon lovers, Demonic Seduction, Drugs, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, In here he's not the one who possessed Maria, Kidnapping, Legion is the demon who possessed Mouse, M/M, Marcus has a demon friend, Marcus has secrets, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Smoking, Soul Impregnation, This story will mostly alterate or ignore events of season 2 and later, Tomas has conflicted feelings, Tomas is in peril, Violence, and so is the demon baby, charming demons, demon friends, demon..kids, demons and exorcists, different perception of demons, even if yes it's main focus is Tomas having a demon baby, for some reason, these tags are a mess, this story is a tough beast to cage, this story will have twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinister666/pseuds/sinister666
Summary: When Tomas, driven by strange, cruel will of fate, refuses to get rid of the demon which grows inside him, Marcus has no other choice but to contact an old friend he hoped he shall never cross paths with again. Hell has it's secrets... Secrets that may only thing able to protect them, now hunted both by Conspiracy and remaining Church.Meanwhile, Mouse encounters an old enemy, however is he the same?What perils await ahead?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am genuinely sorry... this prologue is... messy, jumping straight in, without much action and extremely poorly written, I am not good at beginnings.

_Tomas brushed the vomit off his lips, moaning weakly, brow dipping with sweat. Water... he needed water, or he shall grow sick again from that filthy taste. The priest attempted to stand up, but collapsed back down, head spinning, silver bugs dancing in his eyes, knees cotton-like. He sighed, giving up for a while, however suddenly flinched, for a loud knock came from behind the door. "I am fine, Marcus!.." the young man mumbled, not even hoping anymore his partner would believe such words uttered by voice barely louder than a wraith's._

_"That's it, I'm coming in" Marcus rumbled, waiting not for a response. Tomas regretted not having time to clean the sticky greenish bog of phelgm away before sighing with relief when Marcus handed him a glass of fresh water. "Rinse your mouth first" the older exorcist warned and glanced at the mess, shaking his head "We can't continue on like this, Tomas". "I told you, I am fine..." the Mexican tried to argue, but Marcus cut him off strictly "No, Tomas, you are not. This has been going on for two damn months. God knows how long before you lay dead, we are taking you to the hospital!". He could not care less about risks at this point. There was something wrong with Tomas._

_"No, Marcus..." Tomas shook his head, sighing and leaning against the sink "No, they can't help... It's... the visions' fault"._

_What an insolent lie..._

"Tomas!" the young priest was torn out of his memories by Marcus' rough voice "Come on. The faster it's done, the better. If you are lucky, it will kill the demon and leave you alive". Tomas looked down at the older exorcist's hand, a vial of Holy Water in it. Marcus found out this morning. It was a wonder how did he not realize sooner... Perhaps all of this, it was just... too impossible to believe. Though sometimes... some unfortunate times, impossible becomes reality. 

Marcus had warned him countless times to be careful, not let dark forces inside. Perhaps had he known one could not only host a demon... perhaps he would have listened. Now, it was too late. A new black heart beat under his, conceived by his own immortal soul. No denial could shade this living horror.

"Tomas!" the Irish man raised his voice. Certainly, he could not bother less about gentleness. Honestly, Tomas felt surprised he did not receive a few blows in the head. Out of all unlucky fooly lingering on this Earth, could there be anything worse? Tomas sighed. This must to be done, no questioning. Then why did he... delay?... Why somehow deep, deep down, this felt... wrong?.. Ignoring that tiny voice at the back of his head, he reached out for the vial, frowning as heat seeped though his skin, stinging, granwing. Holy Water reacting to a presence of an ungodly spirit. Yes. The sooner this ends, the better. Swiftly, he clicked the lid open, and, ignoring the pain, raised the vial to his lips, eyes closing tightly... 

One drop brushed against the young priest's tongue, as if an incadescent knife had pierced his flesh. Tomas yelped, spitting the clear liquid out, shattering of glass echoed the room. The man coughed shaking his head, brow drpping with sweat as he stumbled backwards, away from marcus, shivering. Fear that seized him as as lighting strikes, fear that froze his muscles as if strings of violin in winter, screeching in an agonized cry of a newbown dissected alive... he could not bear it. That tiny voice did not whisper anymore, it boomed. A creature... a living creature fluttering, tickling his soul, pale moth which flew into candlelight... voiceless, begging him for salvation. It's guardian angel... A devil's guardian angel... Not even fingernails grown, a spirit, it... sensed.... his offspring, his own flesh and blood, Tomas felt realization impale his heart, was begging his mercy. 

"No!" Tomas muttred, in a faint, frantintic, yet mysteriously also powerful voice. "No... I can't do this. I will not do this...".  "What do you mean you can't? Tomas, have you gone mad already?!" Marcus growled. The young priest backed away even further. "I may be... but I will not... I will not kill my... my..." it mauled his throat before finally breaking out, a mere whisper "... _child_...". 

Marcus completely stagnated for what felt like aeons in shock, lips agape, eyes bulging wide. 

.. _.Child_... as if poisonous gas, it lingered between them, gentle word accursed, unfitting. ... _Child_...

Once Marcus found his voice again, flaming anger and glisten of worry was gone. Only cold, menacing sound remained. "That is not a child, Tomas. That is a demon!". Tomas knew. Tomas knew it was a demon... unborn, helpless one, utterly depending on him. The Mexican did not even realize his hand slithered onto his stomach, shielding it in a way. _Defenseless... Innocent... how could it not be true, for Heaven's sake! How could something not even tasted it's final breath be evil?! Call it lunacy... call it invincible instinct, coded somewhere deep down in his genes... He could not let this little thing be killed. Not even steaming Holy Water could convince him otherwise. If... if Marcus wished to stop one heart he may just... stop two instead._

_What if not blood mattered?.. What if fate has always laid in the hands of upbringing?..._

"I will not do this, Marcus" Tomas sounded tougher, more persistent "I know it's a demon, but I will not get rid of it" without thinking, he stepped closer to his friend, eyes glimmering with tears of something so unlikely in this hzzardous situation. _Faith_. In Marcus, his ability to understand. Himself. His.... _baby_.... "What if... what if it's not evil?... What if... we raise it with... with love, and it... it turns out to be good, like... like summer's night... Marcus... I will not... slaughter it... without giving it a chance". Marcus' face remained stoic, unfeeling, one would say, however... what was it, that faint glow from under gray stone? _Pity?_.. Tomas had carried that... thing for four months now. It must have twisted his mind, or simple human compassion weaved a twisted... bond between them.

Marcus was no fool. He would not consider such peril... Tomas spoke before he did "If you are unwilling to take this chance... then kill me. Kill us both. This... demon.... this... child... is my responsibility... If I need to... I will die with it". Marcus fell silent for a long time, misery-burdened, sharp gaze piercing into his partner's bright eyes. "You stay here and cause no more fooly. I need to make a call...".

_The old gray lion could not raise the knife... Tomas' words ran, rang through his brain, driving him insane, and every time, he remembered her, her and felon Norwegian winter, roughness of whiskey against cold throat, raw sound of black metal thundering in his ears. Not good, surely not good... yet not evil either. Ten years ago. His dear old friend..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mysterious friend is revealed. What past connects her to Marcus? Stay turned and find out. Apologies again for short chapter.

"Care to explain why did I come all the way here from Norway overnight?..."

Marcus sighed once that voice, soaking with wit, deep in Nordic accent, hissing as a serpent and jingling like a silver bell at the same time, that voice he thought he shall never hear again, echoed from behind him. _So... so hard to believe... they agreed to part ways evermore, yet now... what did he know, she could be furious, of course, pointing a gun at his back, but... she came... he called and she came_.

Slowly, the exorcist turned around, meeting fathomless black gaze lit from depth by crimson Infernal flame. "Az... it's been ten bloody years..." he chuckled. Black-painted lips twisted into a smirk "I'd say shorter than eternity we promised one another, Marcus... though here I am..." She murmured more to herself, tapping sharp nails on her bullet belt "You got old...". Marcus shook his head "You remained the same". The demon snorted "Perks of being immortal... Alright, Marcus, back to business, why am I here?" sarcastic, slightly playful tone grew more serious. Marcus took a deep breath, scratching his neck. _How was he even supposed to?.. If this... if this happened to Tomas, it must have occured before, and thus she must have heard of it, but still..._ The demon frowned, stepping closer, tilting her head. His silence spoke clear enough something terrible, something dangerous was up. "Marcus, tell me _hva i helvete_ is going on. Don't walk in circles, you know I despise it". Marcus nodded, swallowing helplessly. "Okay, Azarah, it's just... so hard to explain, it's... messed up and biologically impossible". Azarah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Forgot I defy laws of nature? Go on". Marcus rubbed his eyebrow, he made a decision to seek help instead of making Tomas swallow Holy Water and get rid of the damn spawn. there was no backing out now. "Have you ever heard of a man... impregated?" it took every living drop of strength to not look away in shame of such insane question. Azarah stood wordless for a long while, blinking slowly "Yes that is possible if certain rites of black magic are performed... are you trying to tell me?..." "No..." Marcus cut her of swiftly, unwilling to even imagine himself "Not me, it's... my friend... partner, he... as far as I grasped one of your kind managed to seduce him in a dream, or... a vision, I..." the Irish man could barely control himself anymore, anger, shock, frustration, all of it suddenly breaking, oozing out, he began shaking, fists clenching, eyes tearing up "It's been... it's been four months already and I did not know a thing, I... signs practicly _shone_ at me, and I... I just... dismissed it as some virus... Az, how could I have been so _stupid_ , so _blind_?!". Without thinking Azarah strode to her old friend's side, squeezing his shoulder "Hey... Marcus... Marcus, calm down... how could you possibly fucking have known? You barely managed to tell me once you did find out... It's not too late, he's not bulging round yet... we can figure out what to do... medicine, kids... not my jar of whiskey, you know me. But I will... try to aid you. I'm a biker, after all. I don't leave friends hanging" she surely was not stupid. She was all they got, she knew. This kid, Tomas... he refused abortion, otherwise poor fetus would already be ashes. Marcus would not have reached out, not for her, was he not standing at absollute dead end. 

Perhaps Marcus would ave remained stagnated in raging emotion had she not uttered the word _we_. Tensing up as warm haze of disbelief and gratitude enveloped him, he leaved up, pulling the demon into a tight embrace. "Az... you can't even imagine... in all my pathetic life of exorcisms and scars... I don't remember a time I was so powerles.. _.thank you_ ". She patted his back rather awkwardly, neither of them used to affection "Alright, Marcus... now let's face the beast, shall we?" 

Tomas stirred, blinking slowly unce footsteps echoed from behind shabby motel door, quiet voices murmuring. Events of last evening slowly crept back to his head. It seems he had fallen asleep on the couch with furious Marcus gone all night. _Has his life come to an end, with a lock clicking?... Have... lives of their both?..._ Fear creeping up his spine, the young priest gripped his just a little swollent stomact. Marcus probably brought Bennet, unable to strike a friend... Imagine poor things shock when instead of a fellow priest, he saw an unfamiliar young woman at his partenr's side. Black leather attire could pass, but a pentagram necklace or Leviathan's cross belt buckle did not suggest a fellow exorcist either. _A... satanist?... why...._ wait. Tomas shuddered unwillingly, paling as a bone, spotting her eyes. _She was a demon_. 

"Before you freak out completely, this is Azarah, an old friend, long story short, we can trust her. She agreed to be as much help as we may get. Az, this is out little problem". "Hello, Tomas" Azarah tilted her head, leaning against a wall "I heard you got a bit freaky in your dreams, hmm?.. Has he been violent?". Her question struck the young priest like a hammer, his breathing grew rapid. Pupils wide, he glanced up at Marcus "You told her?...". "Everything" the excommune snapped before he could finish "You don't get to say no whatever nasty details she asks you to reveal. Answer her". Tomas fought unbearable urge to curl up in a corner and weep. A mere thought sickened him. Confessing to Marcus, he managed to leave... details out, but now... Swallowing the lump in his throat, he chocked out "No... he was not violent...".

_Better he had been..._ Better he had forced a fragile mortal into submission, assaulting him, ripping his spirit to shreds rather than... rather than staining it's honor forever. That demon... he had not been ferocious, he was... _tender_. Seduced him until he did not have to claim a victim, only take a lover. Tomas hid his face, sobbing softly. Silken venom seeping into his veins until he could not fight anymore, succumbin willingly, velvety voice caressing him until he melted into rough-slinned warriour's hands, tangling fingers into long black hair. So vivid blasphemious memories... he detested them because deep down he _longed_ for them. 

He cried, and before he knew, arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I think you are lying, Tomas" Marcus did not speak coldly anymore. There was only sorrow. "He is not lying" Azarah sighed, bginning to pace around aimlessly "I can sense it. He's disgusted with himself. Because he liked what he felt, what the demon made him feel..." she gazed at Tomas with glisten of simpathy "Though you must let it go, Tomas, if you really want this kid. Be wise, reconsider... getting rid of it. Because as far as my theoretical knowlege reaches, despite every case being different... one thing does not change. Soul pregnancy, especially male... rarely results in mother, or father and child surviving. Often one dies, sometimes both". 

Misery did not sink it's claws deeper, in fact, they loosened, and slowly, ache of wounds left by shattered was once again salved with determination. Brushing tears away, Tomas shook his head "I made a decision, I will not change it. This kid is... my responsibility. I shall accept consequences. If you change your mind and choose not to help me... it's fine. I will do this alone". 

Azarah likely would rather lose her head than admit, though strength the young priest showed that moment moved her. Sincerely. Mayhaps like never had before. Thus that same moment, she understood she stayed not only to have her old friend's back, but for this brave young man too. She chose land of vikings after she came to Earth... Admiring courage had grown into her blood. "I will be there, Tomas" she gave him a friendly half-smile and ruffled his hair "I will dig deeper into creepy side of occult, see if we can pluck out a few hooks. Now go back to sleep, alright? The kid feeds on your energy, you need rest, while I need to talk to Marcus". "Okay..." the priest squeezed out a tired smile too. _In a way... she was so much like Marcus, in spite one being a demon, other - an exorcist. Like first time he met Marcus.... he probably should not trust her. But he did._

Letting his partner lay down, the excommune rose up, motioning Azarah to follow, leading her towards another room where Tomas could not overhear their conversation before he falls asleep. Vicious roots of concern tangled under his ribs, wrecking them. "What is it?" he leaned closer, whispering "Az, what are you hiding?". "Marcus" the demon grasped his hand, should he collapse from gravely echo behind her words "I did not say anything near him for now so he can avoid a few nightmares, but... sadly, I may be more help than just a source of occult lore about this mess. Born demons are far more powerful than created ones. This kid might be chased once it's presence can be picked. If the Church finds out, they will hunt it to destroy it. Besides... soul impregnations don't happen by accident. It was deliberate. We don't know who the daddy is, what his intentions are, or when will he return, though he likely will. I shall do everything in my power to protect Tomas, my friend. I'm just not sure if I will be enough to". 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... this one is short too, posted later than I wanted, but thrill is coming in soon! I guess I am striding swifly through timeline already displayed on the show, for here things have just a few alterations. We all know rewritten script is always boring. I can't wait to get to my original stuff. Anyway, Tomas is being very, very reckless.

Mouse paid little attention to the mass that morning, fiddling with an old rosary  between her fingers. Only thing she had left from life long forgotten. Grunting, the exorcist frowned, shaking insolent memories away. Nothing but useless flies buzzing in her head, threatening to cause havoc in cold mind, their stinging wings... _No_. Years of foolish misery and tears had passed, she was strong now. Her mission was all what mattered. Sharp eyes scanned tranquil faces scattered here and there in wooden rows of seats, most squeezing in the front. Mouse snorted. _As if it could raise them closer to God..._ Others, a little further, had fallen asleep quite a while ago. Her gaze fixed on a dark-skinned man few rows closer to the altar. Father Bennet... Looking for her, she knew. Nothing slipped past her unknown. But no, she shall not reveal herself... not yet. She will not let a tail dragging behind disrupt what she was about to achieve. 

Silently, the woman rose up, swiftly disappearing amongst shadows. In moment’s blink, she was outside, however just before she could unlock tiny hidden door leading down to the catacombs, a deep voice greeted her from behind “After all I was right, deeming you will never lay down the axe…”. Mouse froze, every tiniest muscle tensing under a skin. Of thousand voices echoing this world or beyond it, she would never mistake this one. Slowly, she turned around, eyes bloodshot out of inflaming hatred “ _You_ …”. 

 

\--------

 

Tomas set his mug of tea down, sighing softly. First time in two weeks without either Marcus or Azarah watching over him. It goes without saying, both had hawk’s eyes. The young priest was not allowed closer than ten feet near anything bearing remote possibility of being harmful, let alone a case. Tomas was no fool, grasping just how fragile his as well as the little one’s state may be. He had abandoned every single religious object he owned - cross, Bible, rosary, collar, even his cassock, which, essentially, was nothing but a robe. His baby, a demon, came before everything. By any means, he would not risk it’s safety. _Or at least he thought so…_

Day slithering after day mostly laying in bed weighted heavy on a man that had spent six months in mayhem, frantic rush, demon after demon expelled back to Hell. Tomas caught himself growing restless. From time to time, he would overhear Marcus and Azarah murmuring between themselves. As far as he grasped, Marcus still maintained contact with Bennet, who kept slipping them a case or two. _Without a foggiest notion about Tomas’ condition or their new companion certainly_. The demon… should truth be unveiled, she remained as much a mystery to the young priest as she had been on very day she came through that shabby motel door (well… since then, they had changed three already, never staying longer than six days in one place… as if it mattered. Any horrible motel bed reeking of cigarette smoke remained a horrible motel bed reeking of cigarette smoke. The one he had back in Chicago seemed royal now). She and Marcus were old friends, met sometime in Norway. Azarah rode a black Harley Davison _Iron883_ she had _fondly_ nicknamed _Meggido Beast_ , was not intergrated to a host (which he found utterly shocking, _never_ having heard of a demon manifesting on Earth without a host), her bone pale skin seemed fully covered in ink, mostly occult-related motives, ears, eyebrow and bottom lip pierced, dressed always in rough attire, wearing torn black jeans and band t-shirts even inside… the music she listened to was… _heavy_ , to put it very gently. One time he glanced over the demon’s shoulder while she had her earbuds in, band on called _Mayhem_ , a classic of Norwegian Black Metal as she stated. She did give him a shot… well… it did sound like music demons would make, long story short. And she… liked whiskey. She always had a bottle nearby. That was all… all Tomas knew about the one he entrusted with his as well as his child’s safety. She… did not act very talkative, mainly focused on lore research while she sticked around. Marcus had grown distant too, likely still not fully accepting whole idea of his partner carrying a child of an ungodly spirit. Tomas felt not only restless, but also… a bit... _lonely_ beside his guardians, he understood deep down. 

This one different, unfortunate evening though, he somehow managed to convince Marcus and Azarah to leave him for a short while and go catch up in a local bar. _How did it work…_ he could not tell, Fortune may be smiling down at the young priest. Perhaps they trusted him a little at last, for he had not caused any fooly lately, while wards raised by Azarah would prevent anyone, anything from locating him. 

Well… fooly had not been gnawing his mind, not at first. Drained with the baby absorbing much of his energy, Tomas laid down, closing his eyes for a mere second… enough to wake in a bizzare, petrifying dream. Maybe… a vision?.. _Everything around seemed blurry, unreal, faded in golden glow of setting sunlight. Abstract lines of houses, trees, bushes… ordinary suburban street?.. His body was so.. light, transparent… ethereal. But why… what was this… dread seizing his lungs, stagnating air...crawling down his spine… wait… Tomas frowned, instinctively covering his eyes with his hand, seeking better sight... despite it, light kept seeping through his skin… a little further, black shadow in shimmering luminiscence, stood a small, fragile, could it be a?... Indeed, slowly walking closer, Tomas realized it was a young girl, back turned at him. She remained still like a statue, before… a step, and he would have laid his hand on her shoulder, had she not snapped around… Dear Heavens!.. Where a sweet young face should be, gaped a bloodstained hollow, as if something had been mauled, carved flesh, veins, organs, out of her skull… from the hollow, inhuman scream bust out…_ Tomas leapt up, breathing heavily, brushing cold sweat off his forehead. Had horror even a more genuine face?... He leaned back, remaining calm until it’s claws loosened their grip, only then finally scrambling out of messy blankets. He’d better grab a glass of fresh water before he faints… for God’s sake, he had become so forgetful… he should have kept one on his night.. _.ah, damn it!_ Tomas hissed out of shock and pain as his thigh collided with the desk while deep in thought, mere folder flopping on the ground ringing loud like church bells in his exhausted head. Without consideration, he leaned down, picking the folder up, opening it out of curiosity… pupils dilating, he nearly stopped breathing again. _Harper… mother reached out to the church multiple times because of suspected demonic possession…_ he grabbed onto the table for support, head spinning, foggy. In the dream… _he had not seen her face, however he… he knew it was her… this girl… in dire need of his help_. The urge, the pull… it became unbearable. 

Gently, Tomas stroked his stomatch, just a little bit swollen, just a little bit hardened. “You are a strong, little one, I know it… you can bear it, just this once, okay?.. You don’t need to be afraid, nothing will happen to you, I promise, I promise, darling… that demon is evil, you are not… you will be completely safe, okay buddy?.. Let’s get out of this damn room for a while…”.

_ One might ask what was the young priest thinking that moment… he was not.  _

 

\---

 

“So… how are things in Norway? Still in the band?” Marcus gave his old friend a playful half-smile, setting his mug of beer down. Azarah snorted, smirking and taking a sip from hers “Not same one, but ja… I am”. “Hmmm…” the exorcist cocked his head, classic rock music, clinging and chatter thundering all around, making it a challenge to maintain a conversation “Maybe even made a rational decision and thought about finding a label for once?...”. She rolled her eyes, chuckling “Thought about it. Answer is no. Not… yet, at least. We’d rather roam round the underground”. “You’re too good for underground…”. “Wrong. Underground is where true music dwells. Even you should know that” the demon teased. “Still…” Marcus shook his head “If you found a label I could get a CD… now I can not unless I am in Norway. Where, even you should know, I had not lain my foot for past nine years” he snapped back jokingly, making Azarah laught lightly. “Spaking of last nine years… what about you?..”. Marcus glanced away briefly, shadow of grimness slipping on his face, thought it swiftly faded away “Not too different from the rest of my life… series of rooms, demons… coffee that tastes like pond water…”. Azarah sighed, squeezing his shoulder “Marcus, Marcus, Marcus… you know you may fool poor naive Tomas, but not me. You speak as if there was no thrill in your job… no matter how gravely it may be…”. The exorcist caught fathomless black gaze again. Together with usual, charming cynism they radiated… sincerity. Understanding. It felt so… strangely relieving to remember… how, and why did their friendship spark… like nothing had ever again. “Bloody right… I can’t ever hide anything from you, can I?... Honestly, after, you know… and after we parted… I lost near all my wit… focused utterly on my mission. If any feeling tried to peek in, I’d shut it away… until I lost a battle over a little boy, Gabriel, to Baptist… then I broke down”. “Even iron breaks when strained too long” Azarah murmured “Though you got your balls together, and now you are back in action… sounds like you”. Marcus swung his mug, draining it before confessing quietly “I would not have if not for one… exorcist. A nun...” hint of grievousness tinted his voice at the mention of Mother Bernadette. “Judging by your tone, she’s dead” the demon iddlessly drummed her claws into the wooden surface. Marcus nodded “One bastard snapped her neck…”. She grunted with obvious loathing “Pazuzu? To tell the truth I’d maul his balls myself had Regan not done it first…”. Marcus looked at her with surprise “I thought you did not know at least about this…”. Azarah smirked “Don’t be stupid. I may have not know precisely it was Mother Bernadette who kicked sense back into your ass, but I know all about the…” she fell silent suddenly, tensing up, red glow flashing from depth of void-like gaze. Worry seized Marcus “Az?... What is happening?...”. “We need to go, Marcus” she rumbled grimly “It seems we made a mistake to leave Tomas on his own…”.

 

\---

 

Tomas concentrated in best attempt to ignore slight, pinching flutter down the depth of his stomach as he sat in front of pale, hetic woman. She kept fiddling with her fingers, hardly held eye contact, spoke in just a little raised voice… she was… unpleasant to be around. And so was the whole house… cold, unwelcoming… menacing. Air itself felt heavy, thick, resistant to seep into his lungs. No surprise poor little one was scared (besides religious objects returned may be making poor thing uneasy too), and the young priest tried his best to calm his child in his mind. There was no turning back now… he must aid this little girl, after all… she drew him three weeks before he came. “Can I meet your daughter?” he asked at last.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sincerely sorry for any typos left. This chapter has been a struggle to me, for it seems it may just be the bridge from boring part to thrilling action.

One glance at poor little thing, and Tomas knew Reaper lingered behind her, hovering over, grinning silently. Her lungs wheezed as if filled with sand, thus it seemed she could hardly even breathe. Lips rotting away, skin corpse-pale, covered with small wounds and bruises, eyes hollow, lids near-transparent. Demonic possession… very last stages of it. The young priest now abandoned all doubt which previously still gnawed him. Ungodly spirit had it’s putrid claws sunk deep in the girl’s innocent soul, voice of his heart neither frantic flutter of his unborn child’s spirit could deceive. After a brief gaze at the mother, anxiously waiting in the doorway, he sat down on a chair beside Harper’s bed, grasping her hand. The girl shuddered from unfamiliar tough, lids weakly blinking open, gazing up at him hazily. “No needles…” she whispered, begging, likely thinking he was a medic. Tomas forced out a gentle smile “I am not a doctor, Harper. Your mother thinks I may be able to help you…”. She shook her head sadly “You can’t help…”. Without thinking, likely led by roused protective instincts, he stroked her hair softly “Well, I would not be so sure about this. I have done this before… I am rather good at this. Your mother says you have an imaginary friend? What’s his name?”. With hesitation, Harper nodded, biting her bottom lip “Tobias…”. “How does he look like?” the young priest asked in a friendly tone, willing her to trust him, to let her know he believes while attempting to find out as much as he could about the demon “Like a toad?.. Where is he?..”. With a reassuring look from her mother, the girl nodded again “He’s… hiding. Behind my tongue… Nobody can see him…” . “Except you…” Tomas murmured sympatheticly, squeezing her petite hand. Harper seemed to be gaining more confidence in his warm company, as she spoke without words being pulled out of her mouth “When he gets mad… he can make me do things… scary...things… that I don’t want to do… and he… he is always mad… why does he hurt me?..” lone tear trickled down her weary cheek. Sorrow clenched Tomas’ heart. He tenderly brushed it away. “Because he’s… bad, Harper. He pretended to be your friend at first, now he tortures you… that’s...what evil does. But I… I promise you, I will make him leave you alone and he will never hurt you again… See? He’s hiding because he’s already scared of me. Now get some sleep, okay? I need to talk to your mom so she can… help me get rid of the old toad” he gave the child another smile before rising up and walking over to Lorraine. “I… see that your daughter needs help” he whispered quietly so Harper would not overheard and get even more scared “And I am going to help you. but… I can’t proceed with the exorcism until the demon manifests itself. Right now, all we can do is…” before he could finish the sentence, Tomas was broken off by Harper’s agonized scream.

Such a petrifying sight to behold… The girl was thrashing, convulsing, gasping for breath, while sounds tearing from her throat turned more and more bestial with each passing tick. “Leave!” Tomas yelled at nearly fainting mother, himself rushing back to poor suffering child’s side, holding her down, gasping when teeth sank into his skin, though ignoring the wound, focusing completely on unfolding battle “ _Who are you?!_ ” he yelled in Spanish. No response came from the demon, not even a growl. Harper croaked, throwing up all over him. He did not care. A tiny budding black soul palpitated as if a moth impaled on a nail. Frustrated, Tomas attempted to reach his foe in Latin “ _What is your name?! Why do you torment this child of God?!_ ”.

Nothing…

Only Harper's agonized rattle, and fluttering fear down his slightly swollen stomach…

\---

“For Hell’s sake, can’t this old nag go faster?!” Azarah cursed without even briefly glancing away from the road, world outside flying past in abstract blur, yet still was it enough?.. Marcus grunted in the passenger’s seat beside her, last drops of strength to remain calm rapidly draining. “Are you sure we aim for the right place?!.” the demon made a sudden turn, her friend instinctively grasping for balance even secured with a seat belt. No matter she had come from overseas, of course she was the one to drive. As well as he may ever get around with vehicles, the exorcist will always remain rather pathetic compared to her. “Yes, you saw the open file yourself!” he shouted, speed thundering in his ears “It probably could go faster, but I can’t guarantee it’s wheel won’t fall off! Besides, we should be glad the cops aren’t on our tail!”. Azarah snorted, spark of anger and thrill flashing in her eyes “Let them try… it won’t be us to regret…” she hissed. “Az!” Marcus frowned “I think we talked about this, no homicide unless the necessity is dire!”. The demon snorted “I would be curious what you might call dire necessity if not this, Marcus, had we any damn time!... Anyway, hold on! It seems we have no other choice than to risk that wheel…”.

\---

Tomas sat in the corner of Harper’s room, hands in his face, head spinning from pulsing frustration. _The demon… why did it not respond?.. This has… this has never happened before, not with it’s grip so strong… What was… what was off with this situation?.._ He glanced over at the girl. Once her tormentor calmed down, she fell into uneasy, feverish sleep. Slowly, doubt crept back up his spine, leaving cold, insidious footprints. Tomas gently laid his hand on his stomach, stroking the unborn child. “We are going to figure this out, buddy… we are going to find a way out of this…” he murmured, however fell silent, hearing footsteps echoing from behind the door. Moments after, Lorraine quietly walked in, cup of water in her hand. “She is sleeping right now…” the young priest murmured, rubbing his eyebrow “I am going to wait for her to wake up and then try to… take hold of the demon again”. Lorraine met him with a deeply disturbed look “Can’t you… can’t you drive it out now, Father?..”. “ _No_ ” he replied perhaps a little too strictly “It would do more harm than good. We wait for her to wake up and let the demon manifest again.”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a loud knock on the outside door. Lorraine’s pupils blew wide, and out of panic, she nearly dropped the cup. “It must be… it must be those insolent child protection services again… they always… they always poke around what they don’t understand… they must disturb my little girl get clean again… but I won’t let them… they won’t let that thing take her!..” she scurried out of the room, no eye contact with Tomas, and he would have sensed suspiciousness of it right away, had different realization not seized him. Fooly commited now laughed at the young priest’s face. One look out the window… this was no child protection services.

_Of course they chased him down…_

_The moment... the moment he left, all by himself, with a tiny child slowly swelling inside him... what lunacy had overtaken his mind?.._

Swallowing acid-harsh tears, he uttered, stroking the budding bump "I am sorry... I am so sorry, my little one..." .

Mayhem broke loose in seconds. Heavy stomping of boots, Lorraine’s high-pitched yelling, angry voices of Marcus and Azarah… Tomas did not even resist when Marcus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, usually cold gray eyes boiling with rage which hid unbearable concern “Are you bloody insane?! What have you been thinking?!.. Running away all by yourself to perform a bloody exorcism?!..”. “Marcus!..” Azarah shouted, motioning her friend grimly to follow, clearly with information not of charming kind, Lorraine whipping in after her, nearly suffocating. “You stay here, watch over that poor kid!” the irish exorcist snarled at his partner, glaring at him before leaving with the biker. Harper was pressing herself against the wall in fear, woken up by unfolding noise. “Who are those people?!” her mother screamed, caring little about poor girl’s condition “Father, who is that man?! They are satanists! Have you seen her?! Have you seen that woman?!”. Tomas raised his palm, desperate to calm her “They… they are friends, my… collegues. Marcus Keane, fellow exorcist, my mentor, and Az Haraldstad… former marine, a friend from… Norway… They are right, I… I was very reckless, an exorcism… it must be performed by at least two people. I should not have proceeded alone, however I was too worried about Harper to think… now everything shall be done properly, worries are needed no more. Once the demon manifests itself, we can begin…”. The young priest’s words had little effect on the disturbed woman, certainly not as much as Azarah’s attire or Marcus’ attitude. “But!..” she yelped, holding onto previous note “That woman is a satanist!..”. Tomas sighed “Her… viewpoint may differ from… ours at times, but as I said, _she is a friend_ , _she can be trusted_. She will assist…”.  
It seemed the demon’s plans did not involve letting Tomas reason with Lorraine (could she even be reasoned with anyway). Harper, ignored by all and taken over by excruciating horror, began convulsing once again, teeth chattering madly. A shattering window loudly exploded. Lorraine bolted tto her daughter, screaming when a slashing sound tore through thick air, blood gushing from her side.

Meanwhile, Azarah seized her old friend’s hand so harshly it nearly cracked. “Listen now” she hissed “We don’t have much time. This kid’s life depends on minutes, _seconds_ maybe. We need to call child protection services”. Marcus shook his head in confusion and disbelief “What do you mean? What about the possession?..”. She sighed, clearly holding back an outburst of anger as well as disgust “Marcus, there is only one demon in this house. _Me_. This woman is definition of sick, have you noticed Chris Macneil’s book in her shelf? I have no idea what she told Tomas about it, but she has clearly been using it as a fucking guide. This place reeks of drugs… we must find them too as a proof”. Harper’s chatter and Lorraine’s screech broke from another room, causing both to freeze. Marcus wasted no more questions, just nodded. “Go find those drugs and find the services. I will prevent a disaster before it’s too late”.

Marcus burst in very moment Tomas was to open a jar of Holy Water. He ruthlessly pushed Lorraine out of his way before kneeling beside Harper, whose chatter had just turned into pained wails. He cupped the girl’s bruised, cadaver-resembling face into his rough hands, catching her bewildered gaze “Listen to me, Harper… listen to me… _you are good and you are clean_. There is nothing, _nothing_ wrong with you...”. “What are you doing?!” screeched Lorraine, enraged as if a feral beast struck with a cane. The irish ex-priest drew away from Harper, expression fearsome “Your daughter has never been possessed” he growled coldly “You convinced her she is for your own sick game! You pulled her her away from social interaction, told her stories, fed her drugs to generate symptoms of possession, you are the only evil here!”. “Marcus… what is happening?..” Tomas muttered, utterly lost. "And look..." Marcus spat mockingly, ignoring his partner in the eye of the storm "It seems you _broke the window_ and _faked an injury_ as well, pretending it was your daughter's doing!". Meek sunbeam peeked through half-closed curtains of the crashed window. Something glittered in the woman's trembling hand. _Silver... red_... a blood-dripping shard of glass. “ _Get out of my house_!” Lorraine yawled, growing savage with her holy disguise shattered, charging at Marcus, waving the sharp fragment into his face. Lunatic-wielded blade. “Harper, don’t look!” he warned, tackling the woman on the ground. Holding her down felt same as trying to tame a wild predator. She scratched, bit, kicked, struck him with the shard, gashing deeply, but Marcus was stronger, thus managed to handle the madwoman. Nauseous from stabbing pain in his stomach, Tomas sat down beside hyperventilating Harper, pulling the frightened child close, shushing her gently.

Mayhaps it all lasted for less than ten minutes… but felt… felt longer than aeons until sirens of police and ambulance came shrieking. Officers seized crying, foaming Lorraine, dragging her out of sight, window-fragment thrown put of her reach. Harper saw approaching medics and clung to Tomas, sobbing. The young priest raised his palm up, asking for a moment. Two men nodded, backing away - _message received_. Nothing mattered more at his point than her feeling secure. A petite asian woman in a white raincoat approahed Marcus and Azarah “My name is Rose Cooper, from child protection services. It is hardly a way for me to express how grateful we are to you three… We had our suspicions about this whole situation for a while, but… Lorraine managed to cover it all up. If not for you three, it would have been too late”. Both forced out a smile, fighting dizziness with adrenaline slowly fading from bloodstream. “It’s… nothing” Azarah murmured. “We are just glad the kid is going to be alright… is she?...”. Rose sighed “I hope so… she… I do not wish to ask too much of you, but… she refuses to trust ambulance workers unless one of you goes with her”. “I will” Marcus replied without a thought “I will go. Az… do you mind... watching over Tomas? He must be…exhausted” the exorcist made sure to sound as casual as possible. “Not a problem” the demon said calmly.

“I… I don’t understand…” Harper whimpered, nuzzling to Tomas’ chest “You said you will make Tobias go away…”. He sighed sadly, caressing her light brown hair in a comforting manner. He too needed to recover from such a dire mistake which could have easily cost this poor little girl’s life. “I am so sorry for that, Harper… I made a mistake… Tobias is not real, he… never was… Your mom was the one to hurt you…”. “But…” the child whispered in dolor so deep it soaked into the young priest’s heart just as her tears soaked into his shirt “Why?.. Tomas, why did my mom want to hurt me?..”. “She is a very, very sick woman, Harper…” he responded tenderly, grievously “Though you are safe now. Please… forgive me and… trust me, Harper, only this once again… No one is going to hurt you…”. Seeing Marcus coming back with the medics, he shook the child softly, smiling, avoiding his partner’s eyes “These people are going to help you… and my friend is going to guard you, okay?..”. “Will I ever see you again?..” wide, blank eyes shone with hope. Tomas squeezed her shoulder fondly “Very soon, dear. I promise you”.

“It is going to take a couple of weeks for the drugs to clear out of her system, but… she will recover” Rose could assure Marcus at last after a short examination. “What is going to happen after she gets released from hospital?” the excommune asked, leaning against ambulance car’s door. “We are going to search for a permanent housing, though as it is a long process… until then.. I think I know of a place for her to stay”.

As if enveloped by after ages spent in warfare, Tomas leaned against the pillows. Vomit stains, bloodstains… they did not matter anymore. He was so… exhausted, so… ill. “Forgive me… please” he gargled, hopening his foggy, heavy-lidded gaze, sensing Azarah’s presence beside him. “I… I know I… I know I did wrong, I, Harper…” speaking was growing nearly impossible to the young priest, for a foul-tasting bile kept squeezing his throat, and he gagged. “You saved Harper...laying her one foot into a coffin… _laying your own child one foot in a coffin_ … did you truly think a demon fetus could survive an exorcism?.. Had you thought at all?..” she did not continue. Azarah was one to detest lectures, not give them, however this time, a different reason cut her off. Tomas could not hear her anymore, collapsing on the ground, bloody rejection splattering from his mouth. Cursing quietly, the demon knelt beside him. _For Serpent’s sake… his forehead was burning!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive this chapter took long, I had roadblocks all the way. I planned to make it longer, but it simply... seemed right to cut where it did. Happy Holidays to those who celebrate!

Tomas shuddered, coughing roughly, corner of his lips foaming, faintly rosy. The young priest’s bones felt cold as if soaked in very ice-chained core of Hell, yet his blood boiled in weakly pulsing veins, muscles burning from fever. Only because persistent care of Marcus and Azarah had the fever dropped a little bit, failing it’s cruel quest of taking his life. Yet even so, deep down his delirious mind Tomas still feared for his poor little one. _It was… his fault… all of this was this fault… **You saved Harper...laying her one foot into a coffin… laying your own child one foot in a coffin…**_ Azarah’s words echoed through his haze-filled skull as if ominous voice of his own conscience, thus softly, he let out a sob. In the end, his weary-growing body was unable to bear wrecking tension and his child’s fear… he fell ill. They both fell ill… his fault… it was his fault… _What if?..._ glassy brown eyes blew wide in horror _What if his baby did not make it?.._. _What if his little one was gone, but Marcus and Azarah did not tell him yet?.. What if… he… what if his child was dead because of his recklessness?... No. No. No… It was… it was alive… he may be nearly unconscious, however should his little one be no more, he would know… he would know…_

 

“Tomas… hey... Tomas… shush…” the young priest did not even realize he had been weeping until a hand softly squeezed his shoulder, Marcus’ gentle voice and coolness of a damp cloth on his sweaty brow soothing him. “Tomas, don’t cry… Don’t strain yourself, okay?.. Here…” the excommune pressed a glass of fresh water to Tomas’ lips, urging him to drink. Moaning quietly, Tomas obeyed, taking a little sip and sighing with relief when freshness seeped into his desert-dry mouth. “Better?..” Marcus asked with a deeply concerned smile. The mexican nodded, gazing up at his partner. Everything looked… foggy… so did Marcus’ face. Everything… hurt. Marcus likely noticed, shaking his head grievously. Almost out of instinct, rough hand brushed through sweat-soaked black hair. “Hey… hang in there for a little while more, will you?... Az may have dug up some helpful way… I’ll check on you again in a tick, okay?.. Try to sleep. Do you need a shot? It won’t be harmful to the kid and lessen the pain, what do you say?”. “No…” Tomas muttered faintly “It’s… alright. I’ll try to… sleep”. He felt frightened to sleep. Afraid of fever-roused nightmares he recalled so little… abstract crimson mist… though every time, he would shoot up whimpering, shaking, gasping for air, either of his guardians bursting in to calm him. Bloody wheel would not cease spinning. Remaining awake exhausted him more. At least now… at least now he heard from Marcus’ lips too his child was alive. Perhaps the nightmares might lessen their grasp… Once the door shut behind his partner, Tomas closed his eyes. 

 

“How is he?” Azarah murmured, not lifting her eyes from the book. Marcus sighed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest “Not much better… bloody little fool. We can’t even smack him for what he did in this state…”. Indeed, the irishman spoke genuinely. Both kept quiet like tombstones about Tomas’ nearly fatal mistake anywhere around him. A dead-brain would grasp to do so. Poor idiot paid bad enough for his carelessness. Might be paying still… Threat of miscarriage hard not drawn back far. “Patience, Marcus, patience… You can yell at him when he gets well… if he will, anyway”. The exorcist frowned worriedly “What do you mean?”. “You know perfectly what I mean, Marcus... “ the demon sounded deceptively emotionless “Siren’s Blood”. “What?” Marcus raised his eyebrows at the sudden change of topic. “Siren’s Blood, Moonlight Rose and Nightingale’s tears. Tea of these three herbs can cure Tomas’ fever, saving the kid too”. “Never heard of them, it may be a problem…” he shrugged helplessly. Azarah snorted “Tell me something to surprise me… it’s all witchcraft. You’re wrong, not a problem. Leave work to me, keep an eye on the headache”. Marcus rolled his eyes “Should I thank God or the Devil?”. “Neither. Thank me and the sane soul who wrote these books”. 

 

\---

 

Azarah had not been wrong, neither was the wise witch, author of the book offering a cure. Herbs did help, in a few days, Tomas felt a lot better. His pain slowly faded away, mind liberated itself from delirium, thus the young priest at last could move, think clearer as well as speak properly. Of course, he did receive a few metaphorical whiplashes from his nearly mad-driven guardians, especially Marcus, though slipped away without too much scolding for the mayhem his lunacy had caused. What brought most relief, was, of course, the little one remaining unharmed… or at least Tomas sincerely hoped so. 

 

However, peace did not last too long. Few days after Tomas finally rose up from bed, a knock on the door came. Azarah was only slightly surprised to see Rose and Harper upon opening the door. Her muscles, near-invisibly tensed on guard, relaxed immediately. “Hello, I apologize if we interrupted you, Harper refused to leave unless she was allowed to see the three of you” the social worker greeted with a smile. Azarah responded with a brief one of her own “It’s fine, I am just glad Harper tore through. You know kid, you are made of tough iron” she winked at the girl, and surprisingly, Harper suddenly hugged her. Swallowing confusion, not too used to affection, the demon patted her back “Anyway, come in. Tomas had been a tad sick, but he’s fine now, no need to worry. Not at all contagious. Go greet the two, will you?”. “Not too fast, Harper, remember what the doctors said!” Rose warned before turning at the demon “Now I just realized we may have not been formally introduced…”. Azarah chuckled “Indeed. The name’s Astrid Haraldstad” she held out a hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure” Rose said, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear “As much as I have caught though… you are an ex-marine from Norway, am I not mistaken?”. The black metaller smirked “From Norway, that is true. Ex-marine… well, technically. Never really served. Found out rules are not my thing. Skills are more than useful though”. “And you came from Norway all the way from Washington?..” the social worker knew prying might not be too ethical, but she felt too genuinely curious. Azarah did not seem to mind. She could easily hold a conversation even with a stranger should she feel mood or necessity to “What can I say… Marcus is my old-time friend as shocking as it sounds. Decided to pay shaggy grey lion a visit”. “I have no wish to act rudely, however… I must admit it is surprising. You don’t strike as someone to befriend a priest…”. “I am not one to, yes. Paradoxes though… they make life interesting, don’t they? Different perception on Heaven and Hell isn’t always enough of a roadblock…”.

 

“Tomas!” Harper squealed with excitement, forgetting Rose’s warning and running to the young priest. Tearing up from abrupt, yet very welcome joy, he caught the frail child into his arms, kissing her forehead “Harper… look at you, how strong you’ve got!”. “Rose let me see you before she takes me to the… foster home. I wanted to see you…”. “I am very happy to see you too. How are you feeling, hm?...”. “I am a little… scared” she glanced down. Tomas sighed sadly, seating her beside him “Why are you scared?”. Harper fiddled with her fingers nervously, perhaps not really sure how to describe what she felt, having spent her whole life in her mother’s psychotic grasp. “In the foster home, I’m going to live with other kids… I’ve never been around… other kids much… my mom never let me… what if they don’t like me?”. The young priest brushed his hand through her light brown hair, thin as a spiderweb due to years of sickness and abuse, smiling gently “Harper, dear, of course they are going to like you. You know… these kids have been hurt too. I am sure they will not only like you, but also understand you and help you… Besides, me, Marcus and Azarah are going to come with you. We will make sure no one hurts you...”. 

 

Marcus, who had been standing in the doorway, deep down touched by the warmth of unfolding scene, now sensed a tug of roused irritation by another manifest of his partner’s thoughtless stupidity, however just as his mouth opened to speak, Azarah cut him off in her cynical, though genuine tone “Tomas is right, kid. If anyone tries to lay a finger on you, it will be the last time they have fingers. Now, if you two will excuse us, me and Marcus have to settle a few matters with rose before we sail forth”. 

 

“Az, what gnawed into your brain?!” Marcus barely held himself back from shouting in frustration “Why the Hell did you approve of his bloody fooly?”. The demon smacked her friend on the back of his head, hissing - a warning to remain quiet “Think of it, Marcus. This is the best option we might ever get. We have stayed here beyond too long, we should have left at least three weeks ago. Besides, for Serpent’s sake, Tomas is already starting to show, have you not noticed? It’s about time we hide him before his stomach turns into a football… What better place than an island with nothing but five or six houses?” Now, Marcus had grasped her point, simply nodding “Yeah… might be only option we’ve got…” seeing Rose approaching, his frown instantly morphed into usual charming smirk “Hey… We’ve decided to accompany Harper on the journey to foster home. We thought… it may do the kid well if she has someone she trusts around while adapting”. A storm of unexpected delight sparked in the social worker’s eyes, her lips quirking, taken aback “I… certainly could not ask you that…”. Azarah waved her hand dismissively “But you are not asking, are you? We offered to ourselves. Besides, we already promised Harper. We ain’t going to abandon the kid”. "By the way..." Marcus muttered when Rose left briefly to fetch Harper - time to go back, get ready for their important journey "Ex-marine? Are you serious?..". Azarah scoffed "I need an explaining for my combat skills, do I not? Well, better an ex-marine or a mobster? Or should I have said I am an assassin for hire?.. No, you are right, I should have said I am a drugh baroness rather than an ex-marine". 

 

Very moment she set her foot on the island grounds, Azarah knew… air felt thick, soaked with darkness, malice, pain, aura reeking of blood and death. It may indeed have been a mistake to bring Tomas here. A presence, a  very powerful one, had claimed this place long, long ago. One gifted with slightest sensitivity could tell - he did not enjoy company. Let alone - rivalry… The demon met her old friend’s gaze. Soundlessly, they whispered to one another “ _Should we ever have a moment of peace - not today…_ ”. 

 

\---

 

“You were cast back to Hell!.. Twenty years ago!..” Mouse spat, visibly shuddering, gaze frantic, nearly blinded by rage, words tearing her throat as they shakily emerged. Even she knew him, recognized him, how could she possibly believe? How could this possibly be happening?... “You are dead!..”. The tall figure chuckled deviously, waist-length red hair flicking unconsciously in such slight, charming manner, infernal flames blazing in serpentine golden eyes. “Dead?.. No, kitten. Back to Hell does not equal dead, especially when one chooses to head back home”. His words utterly struck the exorcist aback, thus unwillingly, she stepped backwards, breathing raspily “What do you speak of, profane thing?! What willingness?!.. For six months!... _Six months!_..” maddened, Mouse drew out her cross, holding in front of the man… or, should one say, demon. He sighed, slowly pacing closer towards his former host, utterly unaffected by the Holy symbol. “All was part of my plan, kitten… however you might use mind a little more sober to grasp everything I have to say”. She inhaled deeply, desperate to collect shock-shattered cold sanity. She was not one of those fat, helplessly-yelling priests… she thought. She acted sharp, struck without warning… She… she must regain her fallen armor… Gritting her teeth, Mouse met her foe’s eyes “Cease calling me kitten, demon” she spoke without delirium now, only spite. He tilted his head much like a serpent, half teasingly, half with adoration “A little church mouse does not serve you well anymore though… like I said before, from prey, you became a hunter. A cat is more fitting than a mouse…”. Should the exorcist not know better, she could swear he sounded… flirtatious. However only emotion his tone roused in her was more anger. “You are right about one thing, demon. Your petty games can not break me again. Begone!” she trust the cross right into her foe’s chest, yet to sheer horror and astonishment, all he did was cover it with his hand, gently pushing it away, not even flinching from faintly smoking burn the gesture caused on his frost-pale skin. “A cross can not conjure one who has taken no host, kitten. Good thing I am not here to break you. I am here to aid you”. For seconds which seemed to last aeons, Mouse stood motionless, silent, completely dumbfounded. Suddenly, lingering air around them filled with laugh of disbelief. No, Mouse did not laugh, nor for years, not in deepest corner of her steel-turned heart. However, this was a different kind of laughter, not warm, but cold, ringing with lunacy. Mere thought of an exorcism gone from her head in this theater of absurd, she brushed away a lone tear. “Truly, demon… You claim to be so powerful without even smelling your own ridiculousness… first you say mouse is unfitting name for me, then again stick out your rotten tongue in attempt to fool me..”. The demon’s shimmering gaze grew serious “I play no games, kitten. These Clowns of Conspiracy had been tugging on my teeth far too long. They work in Lucifer’s name, while Lucifer cares not the slightest. All they truly seek is a fix for their own idiocy. We can break their ratty little skulls for once, though for that, we must team up. We can not win alone. I need an exorcist. You need a dragon. Think about it. Until we next meet kitten. Soon… we both have matters to attend to, do we not?...” a smirk flickering once again on flawless red lips, he turned around and walked away. Mouse watched her go, hazardous swarm of abstract thoughts and emotions raging inside. When at last, the exorcist awoke from stagnation, she could not tell how long did it last something else caught her attention. _Something… something set in her hand without a notice_. Frowning, Mouse glanced down, unfolding her fingers cautiously. _It was a merem piece of paper… a phone number_ , she realized, one mere letter signed under… _**L**_ …

 

\---

 

Barely able to stand upright, Tomas slumped into an armchair, breathing deeply and rubbing his stomach. After Harper settled in her new foster home, the three booked a room in a tiny motel, only one on whole island and, should it be noted, far more decently kept than any they have stayed in before “I… I made a mistake again. There is a presence in this island.... I feel it. The little one, it… won’t calm down. It’s frightened. We need to get out of here”. Azarah sighed, opening a bottle of whiskey and taking a swig, then passing it to Marcus “We can’t, kid. Your stomach is already poking. We can’t afford to race around, looking for another shelter to hide you”. “Besides, we can’t leave Harper hanging. Poor thing was just saved from her lunatic mother, but now that bastard lurks around, baring his teeth… He had been gnawing on people’s bones too long anyway. About time we put it to an end. But you” the excommune glared at his collegue “Stay here and cause no trouble to us neither to your kid”. Tomas rolled his eyes “I am not a child, okay? I have learned from my mistakes. I am simply unsure how will this island be a shelter to either of us, that demon could attack us anytime”. “Are you underestimating me and old grey lion, kid?” Azarah crossed her arms over her chest “The boogeyman will run screaming before he knows it”.

Tomas did not reply, remaining cautious to not let a thought slip, far too aware Azarah could read them as clearly as black ink on white paper. The young priest, sadly, did not feel as certain about everything passing smoothly, not to him or his baby at least. Familiar feeling of cold spine, stinging stomach and hazy mind slowly crept back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the chapter is a mess... forgive that. It was like 5 am. No, Az is not a pedophile (in case anyone got a wrong message). She's a demon. Anyway, action unfolds. Some identities are revealed... some remain hidden.

Mouse glanced over her shoulder, eying her companions. Pitiful, rotten, awry thing in carcass of once Sister Dolores Navara sat in the middle of the ash trap, rocking back and forth, humming a demented-sounding tune, chains rattling quietly. And Bennet, help or a tail better not dragged along, she could not tell yet… calm, steady breathing betrayed the man to be asleep. Inhaling deeply herself, Mouse dug into her pocket, pulling out now wrinkly, shabby-looking piece of paper. Very same one the red-haired demon, the demon who used her as a host twenty years ago, handed her a few days before. Dim candles provided just enough light for small, neatly written numbers to be visible. And the mysterious signature… _ **L**_ … Hatred towards one who brought so much pain upon her still blazed unbearable, yet deep down, so did curiosity. ... _ **L**_ … _**L**_ … Undoubtedly first letter of a name. _A name…_ She had never learned his name... Father Robert, paltry fat deacon who completed her exorcism, should he have known it, certainly did not tell her… _Wait_ … ... _ **L**_ … The demon’s words rung in her head suddenly - _Lucifer cares not the slightest._ ... ** _I am the Dragon_** … _Seven-headed dragon cast down from Heavens... Could L possibly mean?.. No. Of course not._ If her old foe indeed was Lucifer himself, last thing to stop the Conspiracy he needed would be her help. _The Dragon… The Dragon… Leviathan?.._ Before Mouse could think of any other names, rustle of covers caught her attention. Swiftly hiding the piece of paper up her sleeve, the exorcist closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

 

\---

 

“We need a strategy. If we come knocking in the middle of the night with some crazy-ass story, we’ll just scare them off for good” Marcus grunted, rubbing his forehead helplessly. Half-drained bottle of whiskey stood on the table in front of him, and an empty glass laid nearby, knocked over. Azarah paced around the room, yet another bottle in her hand (third one already…), thus she took an occasional angry swig. “Good deduction, Sherlock... “ the demon scorned, huffing. “Real wonder how to dig this fucking strategy up… Helvete!.. They all are rational people. No need to mention the bastard will toss forth any card to make them dismiss us…”. Both started discussing further action ( _drinking…_ ) after making it utterly sure Tomas had fallen deeply asleep, and were obviously beyond a bit intoxicated, which did not help in direness of situation at all. “What do you know of this demon?” Marcus asked, not paying attention to his friend’s previous taunt, hint of desperation audible in his voice “Motives? Possible identity?.. Anything?...” he turned around, meeting Azarah’s eyes. She kicked a can out of her way in frustration, then cursed quietly, listening carefully should Tomas have stirred up, only then replied “He’s targeting families, this much I can tell. Repeatedly, one after one… Possessing parents, making them slaughter their children… It fuels his strength. As for a name… I got no slightest clue, not yet. I doubt he’s unaware of our presence, especially mine, though he attempted no contact, neither did I. Boldest guess I can take judging by his actions, we should expect someone associated with child sacrifices”. Marcus frowned deeply “Moloch?..”. Azarah shrugged “He sure as Hell first comes to mind, but he’s not the only one… what else can I say, research time. Meanwhile, we can maintain contract with the family by keep checking in on Harper”.

 

\---

 

“So what’s the plan?..” Bennet murmured, staring through the window into nothing. He did an impressive job of concealing emotions, however Mouse could tell deep down, delivering final strike to a friend, even if a mere shell remaining of her with a demon inside, shook him hard. _Price of sentiments…_ “We must eliminate the guards first. Rest comes later”. The priest sighed, iddlessly tracing patterns on the glass “The place is likely swarming with demons. They are not fools to leave someone of high importance without heaviest security…”. “We’ll take care of it” Mouse’s gaze did not leave empty, foggy road. “There’s only two of us…” Bennet protested, though she cut him off sharply “I have done this before. Alone. Two of us will be just enough”. “I still have a bad feeling about this…”. “Then don’t think with your feelings” she growled.

 

Imagine their utter shock upon entering the prosperous house and finding it… nearly empty. Three or four security guards knocked out by chloroform as easy as knife cuts butter, one nurse, poor thing… All human. Not even a single demon. The silent look two exorcist exchanged meant one thing - _what sinister trap awaits_?.. However what other choice did they have? Only flight right into the eye of awaiting storm. Their lives did not matter. Mission always came first.

 

Scent of artificial fragrance lingered in the room’s cool, thick air - failed attempt to cover the reek of rotten living flesh. Maria Walters seemed asleep, dozen of tubes connecting weakened body to life support devices, but when the door opened, her eyes shot open, morbidly glowing, and she sat up - easiness of movement unnatural. The… thing let out a laugh - rattling, sickening sound. “What a pleasant surprise… how come the honor of your visit?” outwordly, eerie voice mocked the two exorcists. Mouse had no time to spare for these games. “You are going to provide us information” she spoke coldly, pulling out a jar of holy water out of the bag she had set down on a nearby shelf “About the Conspiracy. You are going to give us names…”. The demon laughed again “Ah, I am so sorry to disappoint you… The Conspiracy abandoned me long ago, left me here to die. You see, poor Maria Walters… so desperate, and yet we could smell cancer inside from afar… useless body, decomposing day by day…”. “Sounds like you found a perfect match” Mouse snorted, crossing her arms over her chest as she circled the bed. The demon chuckled, tilting their head, minding insults not the slightest “Speaking of desperation… you hide a few skeletons in your closed yourself, don’t you… _my little church mouse_ …”. The exorcist froze, eyes bulging wide, hearts, for single tick, ceasing to beat… for the demon spoke in Marcus’ voice. Bennet glanced at Mouse, bewildered “What is it talking about?..”. She did not answer, pure rage igniting sharp eyes “Shut your putrid mouth!..”. “You did not tell your friend about what happened in the abbey, twenty years ago, did you?.. Well... Good thing we have a… first-hand witness in this room, or am I wrong… _Legion_?..”.

 

Instinct tore the gazes of two exorcists away from what was left of Maria Walters, from who now resided in her body. In the corner of the room, right by the window, stood a tall man. Even in garish, white lamp light, his long, scarlet hair glistened like flames made fabric, and his serpentine eyes shone bright golden.

 

\---

 

_*flashback*_

  


“Give me one good reason why you haven’t yet faced that poor pretty thing who’s now carrying your child and taken them both under your wing” Legion rumbled, setting his glass of absinthe down “You know you should have. Very morning after you knocked him up”. The figure in dark, knightly gear sighed deeply, glancing away, crimson eyes aimlessly scanning neatly lined ancient books, gloved hand unconsciously brushing through long, sleek black hair “I know, Legion. You have no need to lecture me… I would sacrifice my armies to look after them both, nourish them, make sure they bask in every comfort possible… yet my armies alone stand between them and the Conspiracy. Only way I can shield my child and my lover from these jesters is by keeping afar” he took a swig of his own drink. “To be honest, sounds like you have abandoned them for good…” the scarlet-haired demon in far more modern, gothic attire half-taunted his companion. “You know it’s not true… though till beautiful moment comes, they both are in good hands”. “Is it wise to trust Marcus Keane around defenseless unborn of our kind?” Legion cocked his head, openly doubtful. “It’s not Marcus Keane I trust. It’s Azarah”. “A rogue…”. “What can I say, my general no more, but shall always remain a dear friend”. “Does she know the child is yours?”. “No… Not yet… Speaking of exorcists...” he changed the topic, making Legion roll his eyes “What about your little church mouse… Is that how she’s called?”. “Indeed” the scarlet-headed demon nodded “though a name very unfitting. She’s a cat, no longer a mouse. I had been right all along. She grew into iron… unbreakable. _Bewitching…_ ” faint, genuine smile curled Legion’s flawless red lips, which did not go unnoticed by his now slightly smirking companion “She’s ready to find out the truth, and she will, soon. I already made my first move. Time for act two… What a shame it may take ages for her to believe me… forgive me, trust me… if she ever will at all”.

 

_*end of flashback*_

 

\---

 

“Mouse… What is it talking about?!. Who is this man?!. What in the name of God is happening?!.” Bennet’s eyes darted from his fellow exorcist to the red-headed stranger, then back to Maria Walters. Last threads of self-control broke rapidly one by one, thus he sounded frantic. Legion… name of mysterious L at last unveiled, stood motionless, silent as if a perfectly sculpted statue of an ancient deity, glaring at _Maria Walters_ with obvious disdain. Once again, Mouse did not answer her partner. Without second thought, before the filthy thing could utter another word, another scornful laugh, she swiftly pulled out a gun from behind her belt… had Legion intended to open his mouth before, it was too late. Deafening thunder filled the room, fired gun and shattering windows, sharp pieces of glass flying to every direction. Legion jumped away, avoiding scrathes on his skin and clothes. _Maria Walters_ gargled in agony, falling back into bloodstained covers, yellow fading from her eyes, only mortal, lifeless white remaining. _Blood…_ blood had splattered everywhere, spreading on the floor as if morbid halo around collapsed exorcists. Moaning, Bennet grasped his gashed stomach. Mouse was losing her battle with unconsciousness, eyelids half-open, shards of glass sticking from her thigh, her side and her shoulder - inches away from her neck. Legion cursed loudly in some Northern tongue, Swedish perhaps. Certainly, this had not been part of the plan. The wailful clown causing a fucking explosion with his dying breath. _Her_ getting hurt, injuries more than possibly fatal… No. Legion shall not let it happen, she will not perish, not under his watch. Delaying not a precious second, he darted to Mouse’s side, kneeling beside and running his fingers through her now messy brown hair. She was breathing, thank the Great Serpent… The demon glanced over at Bennet. He could save only one. He only cared about _her_ … Lucky for the priest, his injuries seemed far less severe than his partner’s. Who knows… not all might be lost. A phone caught Legion’s sharp vision. It must have fallen out of the bag during the explosion… he snached it and tossed it into Bennet’s reach. “Call 911. Report an invasion, ask for ambulance. You are a priest, and the bastard was on deathbed. They will believe you” he instructed sharply, clearly, making sure Bennet's fading mind understood. Thus it was time to forget about him. With gentleness, with care so incredible to a spirit who denies, he picked Mouse’s limp body up, holding her close to his broad chest “I got you, kitten… You’ll not die on me, don’t worry. I am going to take care of you” he whispered to the wounded warrior like one soothes a wailing child as he carried her out the door.

 

\---

 

Verity rolled her eyes, hearing the doorbell ring. _For Hell’s sake, not again…_ _Were those damn priests back so soon? Won’t they stop sniffing around?.. She could never have a moment of peace, could she?_ Harper, Caleb and Truck hanged out upstairs, music playing, they surely could not have heard a visitor coming. Shelby tagged around somewhere outside, probably with his stupid Bible, while Andy and Rose… Did she even want to know what these two were up to? Verity sighed - seems she was only soldier left on the field to deal with creepy annoying priests. She tossed her book and headphones aside on the coffee table, getting up very unwillingly.

 

However whom she saw… unexpected, a rather… charming surprise, one must admit. Behind the door, stood neither of the priests. It was a woman. Striking attractive woman. Lean, athletic... Frost pale skin covered in tattoos, long black hair shaved on the side, eyes darker than bloody midnight, though blazing from deep down, pierced eyebrow raised and that smirk… would get anyone dancing on their lashes. Her whole attire betrayed the woman to be a biker. Not that she even would want to hide it… why, after all? Hazily, the teenager remembered Rose mentioning one of Harper’s saviors being a norwegian ex-marine. Deliberately or not, the gorgeous stranger saved tough, snoppy Verity from blabbering for the first time in her life. “Hey there… We haven’t met before, as sadly, last time I had matters to attend to. I’m Astrid, long story short, Team Harper… I was hoping to speak with Rose. I’m assuming she’s busy though”. That drop-dead accent… surely Norwegian. Verity blinked, regaining control of her own brain “Eh… yeah. She is. You’d have to wait a while… if you don’t mind”. The demon’s smile widened, and she winked “Not at all. It’s Rose who’d be waiting anyway…”. _Damn it!.._  Control slipped back loose, meek shade of blush creeping on the girl’s face as she grinned “Yeah… Rose can wait, so… are you coming in?”.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening, folks! Here I come with a new chapter. It's longer, perhaps better, and they shall keap increasing, there is much, much yet to unfold. VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: timeline of the background morphed a little, encounter between Marcus and Azarah happened fifteen, not nine years ago! A little insight?.. A brilliant idea came to me in a dream, no kidding, actually in a dream, no mater how distorted and overall, ridiculous one... idea itself is sinister, it's heartbreaking, it's a shocking twist... can't have too many of these. Too brilliant to not to add to the story. The line itself shall reveal itself far later, now I just notified about the timeline change.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Legion was no healer, yet had fought many wars, thus tended countless wounds. _What better teaches one than a hazardous malady, after all…_ Crimson-dripping shards of glass were tossed away into a metal bowl nearby, and as the demon battled with ruthless flow of fading life, blood sept into white sheets as well as cloth, leaving bright, vivid stains which turned the fabric moistly sticky. He could not care less about this morbid havoc, not yet. Golden eyes brightened in utter focus as he worked a thin, previously fire-cleaned sewing needle and a dental floss through skin and muscle, making sure gaping gashes were stitched back shut. The sight could have easily made a weaker stomach turn. Not his… Legion had seen far, far worse. However to her, a warrior among sheep, these injuries had been nearly fatal… Severe blood loss… A shard stuck mere inches away from her throat… The demon sighed heavily, biting fixed floss off and checking her pulse. Faint, but her breathing regained steadiness… Mouse was going to make it, Legion allowed himself no doubt at last. She had not felt a sting during surgery he performed moments before, whole body numbed by unconsciousness, yet when she stirs awake… The demon cleaned blood off his hands and caressed the exorcist’s brown hair worriedly. Upon her wake, he shall be ready, and have pain medication prepared too. Careful not to trigger her nerves too soon, Legion pulled a blanket over his former host to keep her warm, only then went on cleaning up what could easily be mistaken for a slaughter scene.

 

A couple of long days slithered past in grayish blur for Mouse to wake. Her mind tore out of stagnation before her body could, so first sensation to inflame her brain was confusion. _What... Where was she?.. What happened?.._ Lids fluttered, opening slowly, and Mouse groaned, for even dim beams of early morning’s dawn behind closed curtains pronged into her eyes like butcher knives. This piercing became horrid beginning of rising physical senses that soon turned into excruciating pain. Through gritted teeth, Mouse gathered her toughness, refusing to scream, and desperately searching through foggy memories for answers. _How did she end up here?.._ This place seemed unfamiliar… _How did she get herself hurt, and more importantly, how bad the wounds were?.._ Judging by agony nearly breaking her iron self into screams, bad enough… _No, no, no… She must take actions, swiftly, but what, how?.. Wait…_ She… She could remember… still hazily, but she could recall what happened… _Bennet… Maria Walters… The exploded window… Wait… Something, somebody else was also there… Him… **Legion…** Legion, the demon who had tormented her twenty years ago, through Maria Walters, she learned his name…_ Mouse nearly lost meek threads of control over her impulses, and her breathing grew frantic, wheezing. She could not remember anything after the window broke, she must have blacked out… _No, no, where was Bennet?.._ The exorcist could see clearly enough to know he was not here, not in this room. _This thing, he must have taken her after…_

 

Before Mouse’s blabbering mind could come up with any other heated insight, her ears grasped the sound of footsteps, and the door slammed open. There could be no mistake - red hair, serpentine eyes… Abandoning cold thought, she leapt up from the covers, and likely would have collapsed down onto hard floor had strong arms not caught her and gently coaxed her back into the bed “Hey, hey, calm down, or you will break the stitches!” the demon scolded, blazing gaze betraying both concern and relief to see her awake “Listen now, I know you detest me for what I did twenty years ago, but a few nights before, I saved your life. I am not lying, and I am not asking for gratitude, I simply beg you to not jump out the window… If I wanted to kill you, I would already have done so, if I had taken a host, I would not be able to manifest my wings… watch me…”. Of course Mouse hissed and struggled against Legion regardless of what he said, however his last sentence took her by surprise… even more so, when for briefest moment, she ceased the fight, and witnessed a pair of mighty black, dragon-like wings adorned with razor-like claws and scarlet scales appeared out of thin air on the demon’s back. He was telling the truth… Or not! This could be an illusion, nothing more!.. “You can touch them if you don’t believe me” Legion assured as if reading her thoughts, or perhaps he was. Shock dissolving, the exorcist jolted away from her foe, spitting at him “Get your putrid hands off me!”. “I told you, if I wanted you dead, I would not have bothered bringing you all the way here, should my intent have been tormenting you, I would simply have taken over your unconscious body…” he spoke in a strict, clear voice, much like he did with Bennet “Mouse, think with your head, logic stays in my favor”.

 

Every point he made, Mouse could not deny. Every point made sense. Demons were spirits of deceit, and perhaps because of it or not, every word made sense. The exorcist calmed down, still glaring daggers at Legion “What do you want from me?” she snarled, frowning unwillingly as with adrenaline risen from shock and fury now dropping, pain crept back. “Like I said when we met briefly in Antwerp, I am here to help you, but we might have to talk about it later, you need to take medication before you start throwing your guts up from pain” Legion swiftly grabbed a box of painkillers and a water bottle set aside for this very moment “You see? Normal painkillers. Human medicine. No sorcery. The bottle has never been opened. No poison… Please, for your own good, alright?..” he held the items out. Cautiously, Mouse obeyed, swallowing a couple of pills with a gulp of water, eying him still. No, of course he did not sing-song the exorcist into trust, may all the logic in the world go to Hell. Simply… what other choice did she have? Damnation of evil spirits of the shadows found herself in mercy of one she despised more than Lucifer himself, one who claimed to have returned with intention to help, and no amount of hatred could change it. She stood on a tiny rock between two fathomless abysms. She had one step, only one… Each - a leap of faith. Mouse, biting hard at bitter emotion, chose the more rational one, if only she was not mistaken. She glared at Legion. “I took your damn pills, tell me everything. If you are really on my side, there will be no more later”. Surprisingly, the demon smirked “Fair enough. Where do I need to start?”. “Back in Belgium, you mentioned these six months of me in Hell were a part of some sick plan. What did you mean?” she asked harsly. Legion nodded “Indeed. Stormclouds of budding Conspiracy could be noticed in Hell far before first devil ever infiltrated Vatican. Lucifer did not care. He never does, about anything… Neither did most of our kind not involved. However some individuals, me among them, deemed Earth should be left alone for various reasons. Many strategies to end the foolish game of pride were developed, I took my own path. An enemy of my enemy was my friend, thus I knew I shall need an exorcist. Back then, Marcus Keane had already caught our knowledge. I allowed myself caught, hoping to encounter him, though by a mysterious twist of fate, I met you. That very moment, I saw your potential. A little church mouse, and under that gray shabby cloth - bubbling fire. You were never meek, you were strong, blazing with determination. A wolf imprisoned in the skin of a sheep… That very moment I knew I must release that wolf, but for it to not end in a catastrophe to you as well as everyone around you, fire had to be forget into iron. It never goes gently… I knew your naive, furious youth shall bring your foot beyond that final line. I was ready. I jumped. I mauled. I tortured you, pushed you beyond you could take… pushed you into becoming what you are today, what you were always meant to be. I take full blame for it. When time came, I found you again”.

 

Every fiber of Mouse’s body, every shred of her soul wished dishonestly, honeyed tongue from him, but instead, came only truth, genuine and brutal. Is it not fascinating how truth infuriates one when it turns out mutated from expectation, unbound by desire?.. She managed though to hold back, not burst into a fit, as he had been right - she was iron. The exorcist took a deep breath, painkillers slowly gaining effect “Why did you choose the “team anti-conspiracy”? Why not at least “team I don’t give a damn”, like Lucifer?”. Legion shrugged “I assume I like Earth the way it is. With humanity’s poetic, flawless imperfections, breathtaking vehicles and metal music. Hell, I even have been thinking about starting a band sometime, and these clowns will be last ones to ruin it for me… You catch my point, kitten?”. She growled quietly at the irritating nickname, however nodded “I do. More pathways to run on the spree…”. He chuckled “Mayhaps, but don’t deny it benefits you as well… anyway, things turned out more complicated than we initially hoped. Berith, another member of “team anti-Conspiracy”  as you called it, did something which backfired. Now, due to his unconcealed passions and rather blind expectation for certain infernal sense of honor the Conspiracy clearly ignores, to be remembered, young Tomas Ortega, I dare deem you are aware of his importance, has been left with a demonic offspring growing inside him”. Mouse sat silent for a long while, failing to comprehend what she just heard. Then, as if out of blue, she exploded with mad-sounding laughter. Her ribs hurt, stitches croaked, threatening to rip, yet she could not care less, nearly writhing “I admit, you caught me, and even I had no trust for you, I believed in your seriousness… now you tell me there is a priest out there, ** _a man_** , _pregnant_!.. Rather drag me to Hell without these ridiculous games...”. Legion rolled his eyes “Kitten, possibilities of black magic are limitless. It can trick a soul into impregnation. Souls, ask you know, have no gender”. Mouse fell silent, trying to regain her breath and ignore severely worsened pain “Dear God in Heavens, you are being serious, are you not?.. There _is_ Tomas Ortega out there, pregnant with a demon..”.

 

\---

 

“Wait…” Rose raised her hand up, shaking her head in disbelief “So you are telling me... a demon haunts this house. Out of three, two of them supposed exorcists… _you_ are the one bringing this up…”. Azarah tilted her head, a bitter, rather cold smirk creeping onto flawless lips “I am not only telling you, sweetheart, I happen to be only one out of mentioned three with ability to prove my truth” Azarah gave no chance for the social worker to demand explanation in stern, yet lost tone. Not a word spoken. Just vibrant dark eyes morphing into their genuine, fathomless black self. Rose froze in shock before covering her mouth, barely concealing a gasp of horror. “You see, I am no ex-marine called Astrid” the now unveiled demon snorted “I am Azarah, former general of Great Duke Berith. Me and the one lingering here may be both anarchists, though I at least I pick on some tough aggressive guy with too much drugs in his brain outside a horrendous bar, while this island bastard targets families. Here’s your answer why do I hang around with two exorcists. I hate oppression, which makes us kind of bearing similar goals. I did not lie about a favor to a friend, neither about being from Norway. How I met Marcus is not important. The reason why he’s not here right now to back me up is because we have a headache with a name and he happens to be watching over him. Don’t ask about it, out of all bizzare things you just heard, nothing can be compared to insanity of that story, one battle at a time, mate, like Marcus would say… Anyway, choice is yours. Do you want to save this family, or will you leave them for the island bastard asshole to slaughter and feed his fat gut, as he did with countless others?”.

 

Rose had always been a rational person. And evidence presented could not be argued her… she, never religious, never believing in supernatural, stared at an infernal spirit standing right in front of her. Yes, of course the social worker could sense springing buds of fear as well, nor did shock ever retreat, however she never allowed emotion to take over cold mind. Today will not be an exception. This… woman, this… demon… something deep down told Rose she could be trusted, while her statements were beyond reasonable… It took a while for the woman to finally collect herself and utter out loud “All you say is logical… and your proof could not be… denied. If there is indeed a… paranormal threat to this household, I am certain being of same kind lets you figure it out somehow… I am willing to take any means necessary to prevent possible harm. What action must we take?” she glanced down, head beginning to spin from this whole mayhem. “Do not tell anyone about this conversation, neither about the nature of any upcoming occurrances, which sure as Helvete will hit. Observe. Keep a close eye on Andy. As far as me and Marcus have figured out, this bastard possesses parents, makes them slaughter their kids, then kill themselves”. “So this… spirit… has made no contact with you?”. Azarah crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head, clearly irritated “Not at all. He’s playing dumb, pretending he’s not here… for now. But he sure as Hell is listening to our conversation right now. I highly suggest we take action swiftly, he’s not as stupid as he wants to appear”. “Do what you need to do, as long as the kids are unharmed. I will keep the records clear”. She had not the slightest idea how will this end, or what kind of horrors shall strike. For the first time in long, long years, Rose found herself diving into fathomless depths of utter unknown. She must stay prepared for anything just yesterday thought impossible… “Deal” Azarah spoke simply, about to turn and leave, taking no risk of any suspicion possibly roused by staying, yet glanced back just before crossing the threshold “You could use a bottle or two of... well, let's call it Russian essence of oblivion for the sake of soothing the brutality. Friendly advice. Take my word on that, and don't worry about the kids finding you dancing ballet on the kitchen table singing _Monstrance Clock_ ”. Rose furrowed her brows, blurting out most meaningless question to spark in this lunacy "What's _Monstrance Clock_?..". Azarah barely held herself back from collapsing down in sudden fit of laughter "Forget it... Not a fan of _Ghost_ I take. It merely will be... worse if you remain sober. Take my word..." she repeated in a murmur. Someone who had certainly seen the planets spinning in her long life.

 

\---

 

“What’s the plan?” Mouse asked, glaring at Legion suspiciously. Loathing her former oppressor, without even a flickering notice, became last thing meekly lingering at the back of the exorcist’s mind. Warrior’s instinct took over, after every bizzare, astonishing bit of information he had provided, no longer seeing him as an enemy, yet rather - as an untrustworthy ally. The demon drummed long, sharp talons, sighing shallowly “Well, according to his word, the reason why Berith, father of Tomas Ortega’s child, is not taking personal care of the young priest in such a fragile state happens to be his aim of keeping The Conspiracy far away, blissfully unaware. Long story short - a shield of distraction”. Mouse muttered under her breath, deeply conscious about the situation at last “If the Conspiracy found out, they would take measures beyond comprehension to get a hold of that child… I can hardly even imagine what power is being brought into this world, let alone through flesh and blood…”. “Truth dwells not in blood, it lays in upbringing” the demon shook his head “Though you make a good point, if the Conspiracy puts as much as a finger onto the kid, poor thing will be turned into a weapon… By no means we can let it happen…” rough fingers brushed through long, sleek hair “We have two choices - either locate Tomas Ortega and his current guardians, offering them our aid, or take shield post, leaving Berith his rightful spot”. Mouse sat quiet for a while before shrugging, faint frown appearing on her brow “If he indeed care so much about Tomas or that child… he should be the one watching over them… how many battalions do you hold under your command?”. “Thirty, to Berith’s twenty six… You are right. We meet him and convince him to pass the shielding post. Berith had expressed genuine desire about keeping closer to his growing offspring, I doubt he would reject… anyway, would any lunacy creep around his head, we swiftly take second path”. “Very well. When do we leave?” Mouse asked, leaning back against surprisingly soft pillows. Legion gave the exorcist an almost pleading look “You have to rest… at least for a few days. Don’t act insane and try running around, I beg you…”. “We don’t have that much time…” she protested, however this time, Legion cut her off “Yes, Mouse, we do. Tomas Ortega is well hidden, and Berith’s forces are strong. We can wait a few days, you will only make things worse by rushing out now and possibly bleeding to death!”. Mouse grunted, deeply annoyed. Their fragile alliance did not make her hatred towards the strength of his reason any less vivid… “I will listen to you. This once, do you understand? And when we leave, I drive. My car”. Legion chuckled, scratching his head “Agreeable terms indeed, though I dare call them rather unwise… Mine’s far faster. You may see for yourself… however, as if even it could compare to my wings…” he smirked. Mouse raised her eyebrow, genuinely confused, glancing over at the mighty wings still peeking above his head like a black, leathery halo “Wonderful time for jokes…” she grunted sarcastically “are you seriously suggesting I climb onto your back?..”. The demon cocked his head “Mayhaps… not in this form, of course”. “What is that supposed to mean?”. Once again, he chuckled lightly “Do you not remember?... _I am the Dragon_ ” .

 

\---

 

“How is the headache?” Azarah asked offhandedly, tossing her black leather battlevest onto a chair by the door. Marcus groaned, rubbing his temples. The irishman had dozen off on the couch a few hours ago or so, book and a pencil still in his hands, letters half-covered by an unfinished drawing of… Tomas, the demon noted, smirking. Did her dear old friend even realize whom, in weary state, he had been sketching?.. “Sleepin” Marcus muttered, at last shaking himself soberly awake and gazing up at the norwegian “How did yer mission go?..”. She shrugged, snorting “Well, one may say… To me, at least. Rose’s on our side. Further about her, though… who knows, perhaps she went into a seizure after I left”. “Az, what did you do?..”. The demon rolled her eyes, slumping into an armchair “What do you think? Asserted my nature without ceremonies and told her the truth”. Marcus learly leapt up from his seat, eyes blowing wide “Az, are you mad?!”. She gave him a tiredly cynical look “What other choice did I have, Marcus. I had proof. Rose’s a rational woman been through tough times, besides, blind man can see she cares about these kids, she cares about Andy, no matter how desperately would she pretend just to be doing her job. She’ll live. You know we need to act swiftly, our hideout is a trembling house of cards. Neither of us can be certain if this island bastard truly is such an anarchist and has no ties to the Conspiracy, to Hell goes what I told Rose, or what might he want from Tomas’ kid once he learns about it… maybe he knows already, it’s not like knocked on our door and told about his evil plan with a glass of whiskey”. Marcus kicked a shoe from under his foot “Why do you always have to be bloody right?.. It’s indeed no time for…” he could not finish his sentence, because a loud gasp echoed from Tomas’ bedroom, having both of them jolting up. “Don’t tell me he has third fucking seizure today!...” Azarah cursed under her breath.

 

Seizures had grown to be a common thing for past couple of weeks. Tomas would suddenly jump out of sleep, writhing in pain, wailing, blood trickling from down the corner of his lip, dripping from his nose, eyes watery… The budding offspring, like guessed, like written, drained the young priest’s vital strength, thus he once again passed into fever and exhaustion, only this time, his guardians knew less and less what to do… effect of the elixir, with each passing day, became fainter, increasing silent doubt poor thing had slimmest chance of survival. It would be deceit to deny knowing this did not sadden Azarah, down in the pit of her heart, she had grown rather fond of the stubborn, noble-hearted boy. It saddened Marcus even more, for reasons he would not ever dare admit, he likely did not even yet realize.. Neither revealed a murmur of course. Was there unseen, dimly shimmering chance, only cold, sharp sanity could achieve it.

 

However upon storming in, the two, surprisingly, did not find Tomas writhing in pain nor weeping or bleeding. Instead of laying in bed, the young priest stood upright, shuddering, hand shakily grasping his already swollen stomach, look of shock reflecting in widened dark brown eyes… not petrified kind of shock, but… _delighted_. “Tomas, what is it? What’s wrong?..” Marcus asked, heavily concerned. Slowly, Tomas gazed up at Marcus, uttering not a whisper… just holding his hand out. Frowning deeply, the excommune stalked closer, grasping it and nodding out of odd, unknown instinct. Mayhaps he had figured out… Tomas pressed his friend’s hand to his stomach. Harsh gray eyes blew wide too, and he panted. “ _For Serpent’s sake…_ ” Azarah hissed. Gently, something bumped from under Tomas’ skin into the irishman’s rough hand. “Nothing…” Tomas muttered, his eyes were shining with tears of tender emotion “Nothing is wrong. It… _it kicked_ … it’s kicking…”.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Azarah stand on dead's end. Tomas is getting worse with each passing minute. An argument breaks down between old friends about what to do next.   
> Mouse and Legion settle their plans down meanwhile Moloch is ready to strike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks I am very sorry for my months long absence... Rock bottom is not too fun of a place to fall into.   
> Yet here... Pandemonium Blossoms makes it's come back! Enjoy the cliffhanger as I work with madness unfolding >:)  
> I am honestly hoping it's one of last meek-paced chapters. I needed a slow comeback I guess.

“Marcus, I have no idea how much longer can we last like this…” Azarah grunted, rubbing her eyebrow in frustration. Marcus raised his head, blinking - it was a bloody, bloody battle to remain awake, let alone sharp. The exorcist had faced countless, endless nights without a moment of rest. But this, this was… different, for some reason or another. Harsher. Not a stone - more like a hatchet into the head. Az insisted, over and over, that for once he goes to sleep, as for her it stood lesser than unnecessary, but he simply… couldn’t. Just could not sleep, no matter how excruciatingly exhausted, not unless he got drunk enough. The demon snapped her fingers, noticing her friend’s eyes grow hazy “Marcus, are you listening?”. The man swiftly nodded “Yeah.. You said we could not last much longer… What do ya mean?”. She sighed, somehow grievously “Here, Marcus. On the island. Unless my gut deceives me, tomorrow is deadline for us to get the Hell out of here”. Marcus shuddered, strength sparking brighter in dread “Az, what are you talking about? We can’t leave!.. The bastard is still stretching his claws to the family. We can’t leave them! We can’t abandon Harper!.. You said yourself this may be best hideout we could find, add that to the picture!”. Azarah shook her head “I did, Marcus, back then it might have seemed so… Not now, though. It’s insanity to stick around. Whole exorcism deal keeps us distracted from what truly matters. What should fucking matter… My bones are already stinging from keeping motel staff under a spell so they don’t go sniffing around. Think of Tomas. Think of the kid, Marcus… It’s getting worse hour after hour!”. “Another reason to stay. I bet it’s unsafe to move Tomas”. “Lesser of two perils when compared to keeping him near the Bastard with the Conspiracy and The Church on our heels” the demon cut as if a knife. Marcus frowned “We did everything for them to remain oblivious…”. “Everything, Marcus, exactly. You know everything does not equal enough, you know that…” she fell silent, neither did Marcus utter a word. Seconds, minutes, hours… who could tell how long had passed, only wheezing, sickly breath of Tomas sleeping just behind closed doors of the bedroom lingering in thickened air. Before both the old grey lion and his hellion friend leapt in shock from the sound of a phone ringing. “Wait here... Solution may be knocking on us. Or doom...“ Azarah muttered, still a tad stunned, grabbing the mobile and slipping outside. 

 

\---

 

“Just tell me you shook some sense into Berith so we can get on the road” Mouse huffed from the cocoon of blankets she rolled herself into. Past few days, the exorcist resembled an old grumpy cat with a sore spine rather than her usual cold and sharp demeanor. Helplessness the injuries pushed her into drove Mouse furious more than anything. Even more she loathed the fact Legion (whose head she might as well still very much would gladly see severed) clearly saw her irritation, finding it beyond amusing. But these were no times for petty arguments in faintest of alliances… “Berith is old-fashioned, I doubt he bothered to master modern technologies” Legion tossed his phone into his pocket “Thus I did not talk to him, no. Though I do bear news from a guardian of Tomas Ortega”. Ignoring pain which shot through healing, sore muscle, Mouse shot up “You spoke to Marcus? You know Marcus?”. “No, not him” the demon shook his head “Azarah”. Her eyes appeared glowing in bewilderment “Who the Hell is Azarah?”. The name sounded suspiciously daemoniac... Legion crossed his arms, head tilted, as if reading her mind. Mayhaps he was… “An elaborated description? Very well. Former General of Berith’s. Now she’s an anarchist living after midnight in Norway. Motorbikes, alcohol, black metal from very cradle… all the class so to speak. I deem you can guess she’s team anti-conspiracy. As far as I heard she befriended Marcus Keane many years ago with him on a mission in Norway. He must have reached out after Hell broke loose with Tomas. She’s aiding them now”. Mouse glared at him suspiciously “You think she can be trusted?”. He nodded “Of course. Berith trusts her as well”. The exorcist’s expression grew even more uncertain “Azarah...abandoned Berith’s forces… yet he still holds her trustworthy?”. “Her retirement was no form of betrayal, their friendship lasted” Legion explained “Berith asked me to inform her of his involvement during our last conversation, for it would be too much of a dire risk for himself, endangering Tomas and the child. The Conspiracy clowns are very keen bloodhounds, not to insult any dogs”. Mouse calmed down just a little, laying back down, biting her lip not to yelp in agony. “Alright. What did she say? You mentioned… news about Tomas”. Legion slumped into a chair “Nothing good… Sadly, nothing good at all. Poor thing is sick, weaker with each day. Besides, they have another problem at hand to spice things up. Ended up on an island terrorized by one powerful bastard, Moloch. Faith as a dark sense of humor, there’s a foster home on that very fucking island... A girl they saved, from her lunatic mother, not a possession by the way, back in the days when Tomas could at least walk… to cut story short she got rather attached to the trio, especially Marcus, so they accompanied her trip to the home, oblivious of what awaited ahead. Now Marcus holds stopping Moloch from slaughtering the family his responsibility…”. Mouse crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in annoyance “Of course he does. As if he had ever known what priorities were… We must leave as soon as we can and face Moloch meanwhile they make sure Tomas is taken as far away as possible”. To her relief, Legion did not argue this time - only nodded “Yeah… we better leave after nightfall. Are you certain you can manage it though?.. Your wounds are still fresh”. “I can manage it. I know how to handle pain. Besides, you keep prowling around, whining for me to watch the stitches”. Legion laughed quietly, furrowing his brow “Am I? Very well, then. Get some sleep…”. “Don’t order me around, demon”. “I’m just prowling around, making sure you don’t flop on the ground like a dead moth”. For the first time in years, and certainly first time in forever while speaking to a fallen spirit, tiny smile sparked on Mouse’s lips. Without her even realizing. 

 

\---

 

“Tomas!.. Tomas, calm down… It’s alright… It’s alright, it was just a dream… Just a dream…” Marcus soothed, pressing a damp cloth to the younger man’s sweat-soaked forehead “It’s alright, Tomas… it was just a nightmare…”. The priest whimpered, petrified and bewildered, clinging onto his partner for dear life “It was so real… Hermano… I lost my baby and it was… so real…” his voice had grown weak, hoarse from screaming. A drop of blood trickled from the corner of his lip - Marcus gently brushed it away. “I could feel… their dying breath… I could feel a knife slashing them out of my stomach… So much blood… And I could not do anything… I could not save my baby…” last sentence was barely coherent, for words broke in his sore throat. “Tomas” Marcus shook his head, grasping Tomas’ hand and pressing it to his swollen stomach “Here. Can you feel?.. Your kid is fine. Alive and fine…”. Tomas teared up, sighing with relief and smiling tiredly “I was so scared… But they’re fine…”. “Yeah. Now go back to sleep, okay?” the older exorcist stroked his apprentice’s thick black hair “You need rest”. “I’m so sick of these nightmares… I fear to sleep” Tomas confessed quietly. “We’ll figure something out” Marcus promised, deep down doubting how much truth his words held “Okay? At least watch some TV. It could help you relax. I’ll… go back to Az, we’ll do some more digging. Perhaps… we can find out how to keep these dreams away”. Tomas nodded. He was not a fool neither blind, though. The young priest knew too well - his guardians kept drinking and bickering all the time. Things were… not right. He could sense lingering peril. Inside him. These dreams… These visions… What if nightmares foretold truth far more horrendous, for it was to become reality?.. Yet all he did was repeat - just a dream… And the island… A threatening, malicious presence dwelled here. This demon was no friend. What if they wanted his baby?.. To kill, or to use. While Harper… Harper and her new family were targets of this ungodly force. He knew, down in the gut. Tomas longed so deeply Marcus and Azarah would enlighten him just a little bit. However he would not ask - he was too exhausted. Too much in pain. He had caused enough trouble already… “I will never let anything hurt you…” the priest uttered softly, hand caressing his heavy stomach “I swear to you, little one…”. Was Father Ortega too weak, too sick to stand against the whole world for his child? Mayhaps… But should the strength of a mother not hold him up now?.. “Little one…” he murmured, voice even more affectionate “Maybe I should… Think of a name for you? What do you say?..” Tomas chuckled fondly as a tiny foot nudged against his ribs “I’ll count it as a yes… Hm… If you were a girl, I… I would call you Renata… My grandmother was Renata… I loved her. Very much… I wish I had been with her when she needed me the most… Held her hand… It’s in the past, though… We can’t change the past, carino. We can only shape the future… I think she would have loved you too, once she met you… Just as much as I do... And I think she will be happy, should you bear her name… Well, and if you are a boy… If you are a boy, I am going to name you… Alfonso”. 

 

“It’s not getting better, is it?” Azarah was sitting on the windowsill, cigarette in her hand, gaze eyelessly scanning the forest outside. “No…” Marcus rumbled barely audibly, going for his half-emptied glass he had abandoned upon hearing Tomas scream “Is there… anything to stop these nightmares from ravaging his brain?..”. Azarah turned around to face him, expression growing stern “Yes, Marcus. In fact, there is. Getting the Hell as far from this fucking island as we can”. The exorcist took a swig, collapsing into a chair “It’s not a possibility, Jeepers Creepers”. She let out a quiet hiss “Don’t call me Jeepers Creepers. And yes, it is very much a possibility, Marcus. We get into the car. Onto the ferry. The fuck out. Simple”. “That’s not what I mean, Az” he murmured sadly, even though briefest shadow of a smile did cross his lips, amused at her reaction to an old nickname “We can’t abandon them. The family needs our help. Harper… needs our help”. “The family is stronger than Tomas, Marcus” she sounded both annoyed and exhausted “Moloch is attacking him too. Through the nightmares. Weakening him and the kid. Besides, remember the phone call before Tomas started thrashing?”. Marcus froze “Yeah. What about it?..”. “The demon I spoke with is willing to aid Harper and others. He knows about Tomas’ pregnancy, agreeing action must be taken immediately. He reached out to me for this very reason”. Marcus jumped onto his feet “Wait, what?! Az, what do you mean?!.. How?!.”. The demon sighed “Surprise, surprise… the baby daddy revealed himself”. Marcus groped for the wall to support himself - in sudden, sheer bewilderment, his legs nearly gave out “The bloody father?.. He?..”. “No” Azarah cut him off “But a friend of his. Legion. To shorten the tail regarding the father… I was a general, remember? General of King Berith, leader of his Elite Hussars. Turns out my old friend has had too much fun in Tomas’ bed without condoms, so to say”. The exorcist remained silent for a long while with air around suddenly lingering so thick a knife could cut it. Thoughs buzzed in his skull like a swarm of furious wasps. Marcus had seen darkest shadows of the world - things others could not even imagine. Things not even horror films would portray. But somehow, his brain refused to process the news mysterious daemon who fathered Tomas’ child through a blasphemious dream… was someone mayhaps not him, yet Az, his dearest friend… knew. “Berith… Is the father?..” he uttered, as if begging for one final confrimation for the shards to stick together. Or perhaps begging to hear it was all a mistake… How could he feel certain? “Yes” the demon nodded with a brief grimace “Berith is the father”. Marcus shook his head, taking a swig from the bottle straight, trying to drown strange emotions bubbling in his nerves “Why in bloody Hell would he do this?!” sharp gaze radiated disbelief “Is he not on the same way as you?.. I mean… Against the Conspiracy?”. The old grey lion had only recently found out about the differing attitudes among demons regarding well… humanity, though instinctively, Marcus assumed someone Azarah held no bad blood with even after abandoning his forces was… Thus he had been wrong? “Berith has never been with or against the Conspireacy” she explained with a shrug “Like Lucifer. He seduced Tomas out of personal desire. But now, after... consequences came into the picture, he is determined to protect Tomas as well as their child. By any means it takes”. Marcus frowned “Why the Hell then he did not show up?”. She snorted, jumping off the windowsill “Question worth a fucking million. According to Legion, he is shielding the news. Holding a blindfold on their eyes one could say”. Marcus frowned, ends of the rope suddenly meeting. As unbelievable as it may sound… it made too much sense to be false. “So that’s why they remain blind dogs, is it not?.. Because of Berith”. “Exactly” the demon opened a bottle of vodka which had been casually rolling on the couch, half full “Was it up to me I’d have him man up and take care of Tomas. Yet it’s too risky. Plans could slip”. “I agree” Marcus spoke without thinking, but suddenly tilted his head “Wait… Can we trust this Legion?”. “Yeah. For pretty much despising guts of the Conpiracy alone. Besides… somebody is coming with him. Somebody you know”. Marcus nearly dropped his drink. Far, far too many surprises today… Bloody mayhem could not let an old man rest, could it?.. “What? Who?..”. “I believe you called her you little Church Mouse”. Marcus took a step back - shock almost too intense to withold. “It can’t be… No... I left her in good hands. She was supposed to… be saved, take her vows, life a calm life as a fat happy little nun… forget about me, about exorcisms!.. I never wanted this kind of life for her!”. Azarah crossed her arms over her chest sternly “Oh well. Seems though she wanted this kind of live. She was clearly not the one to rot in a fucking abbey. She had always been fire, a panther in the skin of a rodent… It seems for once even you made a mistake, my friend. Whereas Legion did not…”. “Wait…” the exorcist’s jaw dropped “What does Legion have to do with this?..”. “Ah… Right. I forgot to mention. Seems you happen to know both of our new soon to be companions. Legion was the demon who possessed Mouse twenty years ago. The one who apparently sent you running”. 

 

\---

 

Harper’s feet were on fire - howling louder and louder in agony with each barefoot leap along the rough pavement. Her lungs felt empty of air, yet somehow still about to erupt - she wheezed violently, desperately, eyes blind and head spinning, though the girl still ran. Ran as fast as she could with no mercy to her shrieking muscles. She had to reach Marcus and Az… She had to… Before it’s too late… Wing whipped her skin, causing Harper to spit her own hair, but she did not care… She had to find Marcus and Az!..

 

Andy had… Andy had gone crazy. Rose warned this could happen. She said… there was a demon… there was a real demon, one wishing harm… Rose only did not warn he will strike so soon and so suddenly… But Marcus could help… Marcus could help, right?.. He and Tomas were exorcists, and Az was… Az was a demon too. They were stronger than this Moloch… She just had to reach them in time… Warn them in time - Andy will be okay, and Rose, Verity, Shelby and Caleb… they all will be okay if she finds Marcus and Az in time… The motel… They were staying at the motel… Just one more turn…


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell at last breaks loose. Moloch strikes, meanwhile Tomas is faced by two threats this his and his child's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell... the action is at last here. I must admit, it was tougher than I thought, transferring from rather lenient flow to a wild fucking ride. So in advance, please accept my sincere apologies if I left any mistakes, or if my writing seems rushed in the end. I finished the chapter at 6 am after an usual sleepless night of battling it, I am hardly someone who passes out without being done, I'm too bloody stubborn. The... certain twist, you'll see what I mean... if it seems out of nowhere it's because I had this idea hit me two days ago. Literally. I found it too tempting. As for another 'twist'... too soon? I don't know, the story itself wanted to take that pace, but I assure you the fun is just beginning. So... enjoy?... Try to?..

Marcus sighed deeply, cursing under his breath, softly tending Tomas’ forehead with a wet cloth. The young priest wheezed heavily, blood soaking into the pillow from the corner of his mouth. “Marcus…” Tomas whimpered suddenly, lids fluttering half-open, shivering hand grasping his partner’s sleeve. “Hush. It’s alright, I’m here” the exorcist soothed “Don’t talk. Save your strength”. A tear rolled down Tomas’ cheek “Marcus… something’s wrong with my little one… I can feel it”. “Hey…” the older man shook his head “There’s nothing wrong with the kid”.”It hurts so much, Marcus…”. “It’s all because of your fever. Try to relax, okay? For yourself and your little imp…”. Tomas nodded, settling back in. A seizure struck harsher than ever before. Even after it’s passing the bleeding would not stop. It worried both Marcus and Azarah greatly, though the two kept it hidden to avoid frightening Tomas even further. Deep down, the old grey lion already regretted not listening to his friend.

 

Meanwhile downstairs, the demon struggled her best to coax down an utterly frantic Harper. Poor thing had burst in through the door very moment Tomas started thrashing around, Marcus rushing off to his aid. The girl’s speech was so suffocated and erratic even a supernatural being could not make out anything beyond very backbone - Hell broke bloody fucking loose.  “Hey… Harper, Harper, look at me” clawed hands squeezed frail shoulders “Listen to me… Listen to me! Breathe!.. Calm down. You’re safe. I’m here now, just calm down… I can’t understand what you’re saying” Azarah gently guided Harper to the cluttered couch “Sit down. Breathe… Do you need any water? Yes I am going to help you but first you must tell me what happened. Calmly”. Harper nodded, but uttered nothing, still too shaken. Without second thought, she nuzzled into the demon’s arm, breaking down crying. Azarah tensed up, not too good with children neither with comforting others. Though inhaling deeply, she patted the girl’s head awkwardly “It’s… going to be fine, Harper…” she murmured “We’ll deal with that bastard Moloch… It’s all going to be fine”. Reassurance seemed to snap Harper out of her lunatic state “Andy… Andy went crazy” she sobbed, though not as incoherently “My… mom, she… broke into the house and... tried to… she tried to kidnap me… Andy, he… he killed her…” she squeezed Azarah tighter “Slashed from belly to throat… And now”  Harper shuddered, voice barely audible “He’s trying to hurt us… Rose locked him up in the basement, but… Az, I don’t think it’s going to hold him back for long… I’m scared, Az…”. The demon shut her lips tightly. Just as she feared, the game has begun. And Moloch struck first. “I see…” she sighed “Don’t be afraid, though. We’ll put Moloch where he fucking belongs. Where are the others now? Did Rose get them out the house?”. “Yeah, I… I think so. I ran before I saw what happened… I knew only you and Marcus could help” Harper bit her lip. With adrenaline fading, her feet completely grazed of skin and strained muscles started howling in pain. Azarah noticed that “Your wounds, kid, need to be taken care of”. “No…” Harper argued “Please, take care of Andy... I’ll be fine”. The demon smirked, somehow in admiration “I’ll toss you a medical kit at least. Believe me, you don’t want to catch an infection and start rotting alive”. “Okay…”. “You’ll know how to tend to yourself?”. “Yeah…”. Azarah’s smile widened, growing even more sincere “You’d put a viking warrior to shame, kid. You have steel fucking guts…”. “Thanks, Az… I guess I’d just go insane otherwise”. “What happened?” a concerned voice cut into their conversation. Marcus, standing in the doorway, bloodstained cloth still in his hand “Az?.. Harper?... Sunshine, is something wrong?”. “Moloch launched an attack” Azarah grunted “We have to go, now”. “I’ll take care of myself” Harper peeped “And watch over Tomas… Whatever is.. wrong with him. He’s sick, isn’t he?..”. “Yeah” Marcus mumbled. The demon scratched her head “I’d say you tell her the truth, Marcus… Harper is a tough kid, she can handle it”. Harper froze, fear once again washing over her nerves. _Was Tomas?.. It could not be!.. No!.._ It seemed as if the old grey lion could guess what went through her head, thus knelt beside swiftly, grasping her hand “Tomas is not dead, sunshine, if that’s what you’re thinking” he said reassuringly “It’s true, he’s sick, but… You see, the source of his illness is rather… unusual. For a man, at least” deep breath and spit it out, Marcus… deep breath and spit it out “He’s having a baby, sunshine. I mean... Like a woman would. He’s pregnant… With a demon baby”. Stomach twisting, Marcus waited for Harper’s reaction, however to his and Azarah’s (who at that moment was loading her gun, getting ready) utter astonishment, the twelve-year-old merely shrugged her shoulders, lips quirking “I guess if demons are real… why can’t men have demon babies?..”. Azarah brushed a sleek black lock off her face “Hell… you surely grew up too fast, baby berserker…”. “Is Tomas… having the baby… now?” Harper asked, just a tad petrified of an idea that from a murderous demon she just jumped onto being only soul nearby when a sick man is having one. “No” Marcus replied “He sometimes has seizures, though. Starts screaming, bleeding…”. “I’ll watch over him. Just… tell me what to do if he starts screaming”. 

 

\---

 

Marcus slammed the truck’s door shut, glancing at his old friend who laughed lightly “Like old times, Goldilocks…”. “Like old times, Jeepers Creepers” he winked at the demon just before violent bashing and even louder bestial howl greeted them two. “Guess Moloch says hello. At last” Azarah joked darkly. “Why don’t we return the favor, then?.. I go first, back me up, will you?”. “Yeah”. She was stronger, could wrestle Moloch’s host down in case he tore past Marcus. Their first priority was to keep him restrained. Everything else shall come together after. Shoulder by shoulder, perhaps just a little too calm for their current situation, the two strode into the house and down to the basement. A key was tied to the doorhandle, clearly by Rose before she got the kids out. As strange as this decision may seem from the first glance, it was a logical one, after all, Moloch could not reach it from the inside, and if he got out… _well, the key would not matter anymore_ , Azarah mused to herself, nodding silently. Marcus snatched the key, lock clicked open… Feral force struck the irishman into a wall, having him gasp for air, though Moloch’s freedom lived shortly. Azarah punched him in the jaw, Andy’s yellow-turned teeth rattling. She tackled him down, snarling “Marcus!..”. “Well greetings, General!..” Andy hissed in a foreign, deep voice. Moloch’s voice “Long time not seen…”. “Shame it had to change. You’re an ugly motherfucker as always…”. “Az, don’t talk to him!” Marcus snapped, helping her pull Andy back onto his feet and keep him still. “Oh don’t worry, Father” Moloch taunted “Have you forgotten me and love of yours are of same kin?.. I can’t compromise her like I would your little pregnant partner”. “Love? Are you bloody serious?” Marcus raised his eyebrow sarcastically, pushing Andy up the stairs. “Oh, yes…” Moloch grinned, rotten blood splattering from his throat “Don’t tell me I am wrong, Father Marcus, we both know how you had felt ever since Norway… And what a shame… Just think how differently things could have gone if only you had not been a coward that night in the fjord…”. Azarah slammed Andy’s body to the mattress, tying his one wrist to the bed frame while the exorcist took care of another “Ah really?” she laughed mockingly “Perhaps then I should tell what real deal of you bringing this up is, Moloch?..You’re jealous, aren’t you?.. You had been hitting on me for decades, back in times of Old Babylon. What did I do, though?” she leaned down to Andy’s ear, baring her fangs “ _Got in bed with your brother!_ ”. Without any hope to control himself, Marcus burst out laughing, nearly tearing up “Az, you…” he pointed at the furious host sneeringly “You slept with his brother?..”. “Oh, yes” she flicked her serpentine tongue “Me and Bagul were lovers for many years… and honestly” Azarah backed away after tying up Andy’s feet “He’s so much better than you, Moloch… In every possible way. Better looking… Better in bed… Sharper at wit…”. “He’s nothing but a dusty Boogeyman in a closet!” Moloch yelled, genuinely insulted, emerald green eyes lit up with rage. However remaining helpless… “Boogeyman?” Azarah raised her eyebrow “Exactly! He was wise enough to retreat into shadows, with his altars torn down and his followers slaughtered. Now he collects children from all over the world, while you, Moloch” her voice sounded nearly sympathetic “stuck on a little island… lucky to reap two or three every five years… It only shows how much smarter Bagul is!”. Marcus could only admire, now recalling how bloody charming it was to work alongside a demon… Alongside Az, to be actually truthful. Someone all too able to make an oppressor taste their own medicine. Azarah knocked her friend out of dreamland by smacking him on the shoulder “Earth to Marcus. Back-up arrived”. The exorcist furrowed his brows “What?”. “Your Little Church Mouse and the Dragon are here. Let’s go hand Mister Blueballs over to them so we can return to Tomas and check on the family”. 

 

Little did they know things weren’t exactly going as planned. Whole scene (nor was it the first) had been witnessed by someone deeply troubled by it for several reasons, fear and jealousy, in fact, playing the strongest role. Trouble was soon to come.

 

\---

 

“How’s Andy?!” Verity leapt up from her seat before anyone else could react “Harper?... Did she?..”. “Harper’s fine, she’s in our motel, safe and sound. Andy’s restrained… Moloch can’t cause harm to him nor anyone else. He’s under supervision, I came here to check on you folks” Azarah replied in a calm tone, softly prying the teenager’s nails out of her shoulders. Cautiously, she decided not to elaborate. The family had no need to know about Tomas’ condition or her and Marcus’ new colleagues, neither to ask questions. For now, at least…”Speaking of it, how are you all? Has anyone been hurt?”. All three children shook their heads. Traumatized, however physically unharmed. “How soon will you be able to return Harper to us?” Rose asked. Azarah huffed “What can I say, she had badly strained her muscles while running to get me and Marcus, not to mention severely grazed feet… I mean leaking, bulging muscle clean of skin. That kind of severe. I’d suggest she rests at ours for a while”. The social worked swallowed “Yes, I agree… If her injuries are truly that severe, it would do her good not to move around too much”. Both knew another reason for such a lenient reaction towards one of the children being not in Rose’s eyesight… Harper’s muscles at a breaking point, bare bones sticking out of her feet could certainly poke holes in their cover-up story about pneumonia, raising red flags to Russ and Coleen. Why would a little girl inflict such harm to her own health to reach an exommunicated exorcist and a supposed former Norwegian militant turned biker with a telephone right beside to call an ambulance helicopter?.. Such wonders were last thing they needed in this fucking havoc… “I’ll go now” the demon gestured at the door “See how is Harper holding up and return to the battlefield. Until later”. “Until later” Rose smiled tiredly. Just as Azarah was about to cross the threshold and disappear into the night, Verity trotted up to her again, pulling the Norwegian into a tight hug, sobbing quietly “Help my dad, please…” she whispered “Just… be careful… This… Moloch is surely a bitch and a half”. “I will, kid… Believe me when I say I’ll do everything I can to kick Mister Blueballs out of your dad’s ass”. Verity snorted out of sudden amusement “Mister Blueballs?..”. “That’s sadly a story for another time, kid, all I can say now is it’s far from Moloch’s range of liking”. “Sounds like a fun one, though… I’ll definitely want to hear it when… when this is all over”. 

 

\---

 

“I can’t perform an exorcism with you in the room” Mouse glared at her companion. Legion leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest “You’re concerned about me?..” he teased. “No I’m not. But I’m working with you…” she rumbled dismissively. “Don’t listen to her, Legion” Moloch laughed, Andy’s face already starting to blister “She wants you inside just as much as twenty years ago… Who knows, maybe even more… A little Mouse so wet for a Dragon she already forgot her God... come on, bend her over, I’ll be quiet” the host’s face distorted maliciously. Legion scoffed, shaking his head “Seriously, Moloch, you’re a disgrace to very demonkind. That low on class, you could never be named a Serpent Tempter. If you even know what class is… After all, you so desperately busy yourself chasing families to terrorize like they were fucking Starbucks on a Monday morning… So keen to bring up sex lives of others because you don’t have your own... Tell me” Legion set his heavy-booted foot beside Andy’s head, sneering at Moloch clacking his host’s teeth “For real, you caught me curious… Has any woman, or man, ever surrendered themselves to you? I mean willlingly?..”. “Get away from me, Lizard!” the Babylonian snapped, making the Aramaic chuckle in victory “That’s what I thought. You never managed to seduce anyone… Not sensually. All could see what a brute you truly were. No one wasted themselves for you…”. Mouse, suddenly a little bit fonder of her companion, joined the round, pressing a rosary to Andy’s forehead, making Moloch howl in agony, steam rising from his victim’s sizzling skin “You promised to be quiet… but that’s how I like you much more, bastard… Shrieking in agony… Release this man!”. “That’s right” Legion tilted his head “Release Andy, and we’ll let you live. Fly your ass back to Hell to cry in a corner that is… Still, quite a generous offer for someone like you”. “Never!” the Babylonian demon roared, completely overtaken by wrath, having endured far too much humiliation for his pride to handle “If I go, this little vermin dies with me! Shoot him! Kill me, lovebirds! I dare you!”. “Too little of a challenge, virgin” Legion’s upper lip twitched, barely revealing his venom-dripping fangs “Let the game begin” he murmured, unintentionally mimicking Billy the Puppet from Saw. Not quite a similar game after all… Mouse waved her companion closer “Leave the room. A rite shall weaken Moloch’s grip on Andy. After that, you can play one of your little tricks on him and cast him back to the Pit”. “I can do it right now” he offered. “No” Mouse objected “Too dangerous for the host. We still may attempt to save his life. Moloch clings to him tightly… He may not be too good of a tempter, yet he had something up the sleeve for Andy to nearly intergrate”. “Lost loved one” Legion clarified “Moloch pretended to be his deceased wife. Still does, in Andy’s head”. “If an exorcism weakens Moloch, he could shake illusions off… The more Andy fights himself, the higher our chances”. “Yes, though an exorcism shall weaken Andy’s body too…” Legion pointed out. “So will a battle of two demons. Likely even more” Mouse argued. “Alright” the demon gave in “Let’s do it your way. I’ll wait outside”. 

 

\---

Holes already gaped in the sheets, Tomas digging his nails into them harder and harder each time. _Something was wrong… Something had to be very, very wrong, this was no seizure, no longer…_ Excruciating pain would flood over his stomach and hips, making the young priest curl into a ball, sobbing, linger for a while and fade, only to strike again far too soon. Almost as if… “Marcus…” Tomas yelped faintly, glancing up at his concerned partner “Marcus, I think I’m… I think I’m losing my baby…”. Marcus squeezed the other’s shaking hand, trying his best to offer comfort, not to show the worry gnawing his heart “No, Tomas, you are seven and a half months along, it’s far too late for a…” _wait… far too late for a miscarriage meant a possibility of an early…_ Cold gray eyes widened, bewildered “Tomas… Oh God, Tomas, you’re most likely in… in bloody... labor”. There though was no time for wonders about how to actually deliver the baby now that it decided to come so unexpectedly, the young man, key word man, obviously not having necessary parts for a birth… “Marcus!” petrified Harper shrieked from another room. 

 

“So it is true… child of the Devil, carried by a male… Unholiest blasphemy to ever have plagued this Earth…” a glassy-eyed bishop stuttered in terror from the sight in front of him, five agents of the church at his side just as astounded. The bishop turned his gaze to Marcus, taken aback by sudden invasion though instinctively covering Tomas with his body “Marcus Keane… We had not been wrong to fear you betrayed God himself after falling from Grace… Taking Father Ortega with you…” the old man wailed. “How the Hell did you discover us, you son of a bitch?!” Marcus spat. _All their tracks had been covered, no trace prevailing!.. There was no possible way unless..._ “A god-fearing man informed us of your acts, and of the upcoming catastrophe” the bishop replied. If Marcus had thought the last sour candy had been just tasted… he was very, _very_ wrong. “Forgive me, Marcus…” a sorrowful voice reached his ears, a familiar voice his brain at first refused to register, not like this!.. Shock twisted, morphed into betrayal, anger burning hotter than forges of Hell while the voice continued it’s pathetic sing-song of excuses “I… saw you with these demons, after I… after I realized what you were truly doing, I… I had no choice, Marcus. Forgive me…”. The exorcist foamed through gritted teeth, last drops of humanity drained out of him by this man… Marcus had told Peter his deepest sorrows, opened his heart and revealed himself in vulnerability, only to be repaid by this… Foolish old man, to have trusted another human being! Ever since their supposed parting, Peter stuck around, sniffing... First curiosity, then, after truth came clear to him, fear and... “You motherfucker!” he screamed, primal wrath bubbling in his veins “Shut up! You did this out of jealousy and out of stupidity, you _bastard_!”. Marcus charged at the man few nights ago he kissed like a bull would launch itself at an old, demented farmer. Two of the Church agents acted quickly, holding him down. Marcus punched one of them, his knuckles and the man’s jaw breaking as they collided, saliva mixed with blood splattering around. The agent moaned in pain, stumbling backwards, however old grey lion had no hope of defeating them all. “Child of the Devil must die before it bleeds into this world!” the bishop announced. Only one of his bloodhounds remained by the old man’s side. Poor Tomas, pressing against the wall and trying to cover his stomach as he writhed in agony, after all, was defenseless. Three men pinning feral Marcus against the floor, Harper, barely upright on her injured feet attempting to ambush one from behind only to ruthlessly be knocked away, the bishop raised a knife. Cold blade slashed into Tomas’ skin exposed by remaining agent, shriek of desperation and pain filling thickened air… 

 

Perhaps deafened by it, seven men and a little girl did not hear the galloping of hooves. Did not sense a storm approaching before it was too late. Peter slumped onto the ground, his ankles slashed, preventing any chance of escape “You shall be dealt with later. It’s not me you betrayed” deep voice soaked in spite snarled from under a black hood, long blade of a sword in gloved hand dripping with blood. The stranger was tall, armored under his cloak, however not only attire unveiled him not to be a creature of this world. Did any mortal have leathery wings growing from their back, rustling as they walked, sleek black bearing crimson glisten?.. Did eyes of any human man glow so diabolically amber?.. The bishop froze, knife slipping out of his trembling wrinkly hand, clanging as it dropped. And so did his bloodhounds - releasing Marcus like it could somehow save them from towering doom. The demon wasted no time - two agents beheaded in one ruthless strike, lifeless bodies sinking down, their severed heads tumbling down, mouths congealed agape until maggots ate them away. Already injured man suffered same fate. Fourth, in an elegant, firm twist of a hand he disemboweled, gore splashing around. Last one he impaled right through the eye, juices forced out making a sickening sound. Slowly, the demon approached the old bishop now cowering as if a toddler under the bed with an armed robber roaming the house. Grimace that bared rows of sharp glistening teeth was something more than simple hatred… “You are never reaching heaven, George Malcolm...” he grabbed the man by the collar of his robe, lifting him up to whisper into his ear, voice no longer boiling - it felt colder than a grave “No, you are to wait for my return in Hell… and you are to learn the price for harming my family” judgement spoken, blade slithered to the bishop’s throat, gashing it open like moments before his Holy knife threatened Tomas’ unborn child. Deeper, slower, savoring the moment… The demon tossed his victim’s gasping, convulsing body away with disgust, facing Marcus at last. “Who… who are you?..” Marcus muttered, having already jumped onto his feet and stalking closer in astonishment. “Lord Berith” their savior replied simply. He knelt beside Tomas’ bed, pulling his hood down. Looking at that stern pale face, thick beard which made it appear older but in some way even more handsome, at long black hair framing it flawlessly, cascading down the daemon’s back, onto his broad shoulders… Relief washed over the young priest. Was it not the same lips that set his skin on fire?.. Not same eyes which caressed him in lust and adoration?.. Did this very voice not tempt him into sinful pleasure clothed by a dream?.. “It’s… you…”. Berith smiled fondly “You thought I abandoned you and out child?.. Over my cold ashes, dear Tomas, over my cold ashes…”. 


End file.
